Escape
by aranenumenesse
Summary: Story begins... Rogan. AU.
1. Assassin

Too many late nights. Too many early mornings. That look in her eyes. Every goddamned time. She keeps telling me that it doesn't matter. That she understands. But her eyes… They're telling completely different story. Christ. I wish I could tell her. Tell her everything. Give her a reason for all those lonely nights. But I can't. I don't give a flying fuck about Xavier and that little deal of ours, but telling her what I have been doing while she has been lying awake in our bed, waiting for me to come home… I just can't. Shit. I have already fucked up so many things in my life. Can't let this fall apart, too.

* * *

"Wolverine." Asshole.

"I trust everything went as planned." You fucking know that already. You were there.

"I sensed some… Reluctance?" Like every goddamned time before.

"I expect full briefing first thing in the morning." Fuck you, ass-wipe. It's fucking six in the morning already. Six.

"Fine. I'll come to see you at nine." And now… Get the fuck off from my head!

* * *

"Logan?"

"It's just me, darling… Go back to sleep. I'll take quick shower…"

"Okay… You're going to sleep in later?"

"Could you wake me before nine? I have a meeting with prof."

"Okay…"

She doesn't even ask anymore. At first I thought it was difficult when she kept pestering me with questions. Where had I been? With whom. What had I done? Now I'd prefer that she asked instead of just rolling over and falling back to sleep.

* * *

"Logan?"

"Logan?" Wha…

"What time is it?"

"Half past eight. I was going to let you sleep a little longer, but Scott asked if I would like to go with him to town to get some parts for his mechanics class…" Summers? Can't he find some bolts and screws by himself?

"It's okay, darling… I can take a nap later. Thanks for waking me…" Half an hour. Just enough time…

"Come over here…" Fuck. She left already. Might as well get up before other parts of me decide to get up.

* * *

Summers? She left with Summers? They have been gone for freaking three hours already. Enough time for me to chat with Xavier, scare half of the students and get bored, then scared, and now I'm starting to get paranoid. Not a good feeling. But they have been away for three hours. Marie. With Summers. Together in town. For three fucking hours.

* * *

"It was nice." Marie's voice. I don't think I have heard her that relaxed in months.

"I thought you might like it." Summers. So fucking smug. Too pleased.

"Yeah… It gets a bit lonely sometimes…" Oh, fuck. This isn't happening.

"You should talk to him." No fuck, Summers? Like I don't know already…

"I don't know. It's almost as if I don't even know him anymore. I don't even see him most of the times. He comes home, sleeps for couple of hours, goes to see Professor Xavier and leaves. And I don't have a clue about what's going on!" I'm sorry about that, darling. I really am.

"Hey… Come here… I'm sure he has a reasonable explanation. Just ask him about it." Get your fucking paws off from my girl, Summers!

"I have already tried! He won't talk to me about it!"

"Come on. Let's go and grab something to eat. Okay?" Going past the car. Heading towards kitchen. Good.

* * *

"Wolverine."

"Not tonight, Xavier."

"I'm sorry. Were you under the impression that you have a choice over the matter? Because you don't. We have a deal."

"We may have a deal. But I have a life, too. And that life is going down the drain, straight to hell if you don't give me some time-off every now and then."

"Have you already forgotten who gave you that life?"

"Fuck you, old man. The deal's off. I'm leaving. And I'm taking her with me."

"Crudeness won't get you out of this. A deal is a deal. You knew full well what you were signing in…"

"Just… Can't you give me a week? One lousy week? I don't want to loose her."

"Far greater matters are at stake right now. I can't afford to let you go. Not now…"

"One night? That can't be too much considering… Fuck! Get out of my head!"

"Stop fighting. I will take over completely if I have to."

* * *

Sloppy. Awfully sloppy and messy. Didn't really have the time to finesse. This'll have to do. Because I'm going home. I'm going home to my wife, take her with me, and we're leaving. Xavier can find someone else to do his bidding. I won't do this again. Not anymore. I'll go and get my wife. That is of course if I still have one. Haven't spent a single night with her during six months we have been married. Our wedding night she slept alone while I went out to kill a man.

* * *

"Marie? Kid? Wake up, honey…"

"Logan?"

"It's me. You have to wake up now."

"What is it? Has something happened?" Worried. So fucking worried.

"Not yet. Get up and get dressed. We'll have to go."

"Go? Now? In the middle of the night?" Jesus! Move that pretty ass of yours!

"Right now." Before Xavier finds out what's happening. I'm quite sure he'll have to be in close proximity to scramble my brain.

"What is going on… Logan! Let go of me!"

"Move! We have to go! Now!" I can already feel his tentacles prickling in the back of my mind. Fucker must have guessed something.

"Where are we going?" Now she's asking questions?

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes." Thank God there's no hesitation. I still have her.

"Get dressed. I'll tell you everything later." If there is such thing as later. Have to keep my head together. Can't let Xavier through now. Can't let him ruin everything.

* * *

"Logan, your nose!" What the fuck?

"What… about my… Nose…"

"It's… You're bleeding!" No wonder it feels like somebody's trying to stuff my brain out through my sinuses…

"Here… Take the keys… You have to drive…" Because I can't fucking see anymore. Xavier. Don't know what he's doing, but can't be anything good…

"Where do I go?" How the fuck should I know?

"Just drive… He's not tracking you down…" He definitely isn't. I got his full attention. Can only hope there's no permanent damage.

"Drive already!" Fucking-Christ-On-Crutches! If you don't get us out of here soon…

* * *

Little better. Still feels like somebody replaced inside of my skull with sanding paper, and I'm coughing up clotted blood, but for once something went as I planned. As soon as we passed Salem I could feel Xavier giving up, retreating. Now it's just Marie and me. And this awful calm and peace. She's waiting for an explanation. There are no more questions. It's time to answer.

"Honey… How much do you want to know?" I'm not sure how much I want to tell, but I will tell her everything she wants to know. I owe her that much.

"Tell me everything." Oh, shit…


	2. Paycheck: Wife

I think I'm going to be sick. Car is swerving. I'm not used to drive this fast, and Logan urges me to step on it. If I push the pedal any harder, it'll fall through the floor. I don't know what's going on, but Logan's in an awful hurry to get away from Xavier's. And he's bleeding. He never bleeds. Blood is practically pouring from his nose and he keeps twitching and jerking and shouting obscenities, cursing Xavier, himself and me in turn. What the hell is going on?

* * *

"I think we can stop now… I can't feel him anymore…" I have barely enough time to slow down a little when Logan jerks the door open and leans out. I'm really going to be sick soon. I can hear something wet, blood or vomit hitting the pavement.

"Oh, sweet Jesus… I don't think there's any permanent damage… Do we have any aspirin?" This is getting too weird. I rummage through my bag I managed to snatch with me before Logan jostled me to the garage. Looks like he's in luck.

"Here. You're supposed to take two… Logan! You can't take a whole bottle at once!" He just… He can't do that! It'll make him… I don't know what it'll make him…

"I can't?" And there goes the eyebrow. Damn him. He knows full well what that does to me!

"Honey… How much do you want to know?" He asks. Duh. What do you think, you big lug?

"Tell me everything." And none of that eyebrow-crap this time.

* * *

"Better?" This is gross. It's my turn to kneel, my ass thrust up in the air. Logan's holding my hair and rubbing my back. I ate last time little after lunch-hour, so there's not much of stuff coming out, but I fucking hate dry heaves!

Had I known six months ago what I know now I would have refused when Logan proposed me. Had I known what kind of a man Charles Xavier is I would have moved out from the mansion and left his little haven for good.

"Why did you do it?"

"I'm not smart like Summers, Jeannie and Ororo. Not smart enough to be a teacher. X-Team is doing just fine on their own. It was the only way I could contribute. If I hadn't made that deal, Xavier would have tossed me to the curb."

"But… You were doing just fine on your own… You didn't even like Xavier's place. Why did you stayed?" He's not making any sense. Four years I had to listen him griping and nagging how he was going out of his mind, bored as hell and ready to gut every fucking kid and teacher.

"You were there." Oh…

"I don't know… At first I just… I guess you could say I was curious. You were the first person that didn't run and shout bloody murder when you saw what I am. I can't say I wasn't seriously tempted to test the waters, but you were so fucking young… I stayed to keep you safe. Remember that one night in the kitchen?"

How could I forget? I had gone to have some ice cream. I thought everyone else was already sleeping. I was wrong. Logan was sitting there, in the darkness. Scared me out of my wits before I realized who it was. He looked so fucking tired and worn out, sitting on a barstool, elbows propped against the counter, his face hidden behind his palms. He was really out of it. At first he didn't even notice me. I had to call his name twice before he looked at me.

* * *

"Marie? It's three o'clock. Shouldn't you be in bed?" His voice cracked and I could see his hands trembling. I just walked to him and hugged him. At first it was a little awkward, like he didn't know what to make of it. Then he just pulled me up on his lap. I don't know how long we sat there, holding each other. Must have been pretty long because I got pins and needles all over my legs.

* * *

"That night I knew. I knew I had to have you. I had just come home. Pretty fucked up mission. Don't really care to go in to details. But at that moment I decided to ask your hand."

"From Xavier."

"Didn't really have a choice. He was your guardian. I couldn't have… You were still underage. Xavier could have gotten me arrested if I didn't make my intentions clear to him." Uh-huh… Now those short trips to stargazing at odd hours, and truth to be told, quite embarrassing bouquets of flowers appearing to my nightstand every now and then made perfect sense.

"Xavier had already promised you to me. That was of course if you wanted me when the time was right. I tried… I'm not exactly experienced in dating. And I didn't even have the time to do it properly. Most of the times Xavier kept me in a tight leash. Running around with part of his mind lodged inside my head, doing… Well, doing what needed to be done. And I was stupid enough to think it would all somehow change once we were married. That it would magically turn to nine-to-five job. Well, not really, but that Xavier would at least have the decency to give me some time-off every now and then. That he would be willing to let me live a little."

"Logan?"

"Hush. You wanted to hear everything." Yeah. But not like this. Not sitting in a car on the side of the road, scent of blood coming off from him in waves and taste of my own bile at the back of my throat.

"Can… Can we go somewhere and get cleaned up first?"

"Fine. There's a motel not too far from here. I don't think the owner remembers me. It was almost a year ago…"

* * *

Hot water. Heaven. Naked Logan under hot water with me. Too good for words. People keep telling that after first few months of the marriage relationship tends to cool down a bit. I guess I have to thank Xavier that we're still at honeymoon stage. It doesn't take much to turn us both on. Most of the times simple task of undressing is enough, and we're ready to go, like couple of bunnies on Viagra. There hasn't been too much time and chances for that lately. Logan has been away, and when he's home he has been either sleeping or talking with Xavier.

* * *

"Where was I?" And how the hell should I remember something like that after what we did in the shower?

"I think you were telling me how Xavier screwed you over…"

"And how the hell I'm supposed to continue when you keep doing that? Honey… Oh, Christ… Marie…" He's so easy to distract. We're both too easy.

"Okay. Talk. I won't touch you before you finish your story."

"Too late for that, darling…"

* * *

"Where were we?"

"You were going to tell me something about Xavier…"

"Don't fall asleep on me now. This is important. You wanted to know." Don't fall asleep? I can barely keep my eyes open. Multiple orgasms tend to leave me little tired.

"Basically Xavier made me his puppet. He used you as a bait to lure me in to that deal. Fucker knows me far too good… But I'm done with him. I have a life. Life with you. If you still have me. If… Marie?" Wha… Where is he going now? Why is he getting out of bed? Did he drop something?

"Will you be my wife?"


	3. Aftershock

I'm fucking going nuts. A week without sleep can't be healthy. I almost fell asleep on the wheel couple of days ago. Marie has been driving ever since. I keep dozing off, almost asleep, and then suddenly I'm wide-awake. Why? Because she's leaving me.

Not in reality. We're pretty good. In fact, surprisingly good. But every time I dare to sleep, this gut-wrenching surety suddenly grips me. Horrid feeling that when I open my eyes she's gone. Just gone without a trace, and never coming back. It takes a while to kick my brain back in reality after that. And I think she's starting to get just a bit annoyed to the way I cling to her after those dreams.

* * *

"Logan, just close your eyes for a couple of seconds. I promise to wake you up if it looks like you're having a bad dream, okay?" Yeah, right. Forgot what happened last time, Einstein?

"No. I'm fine. Just a little dizzy. I'll sleep when we stop for the night…"

"Promise?" Fuck. Is this some kind of new game? Yank the chain and watch how puppy squirms?

"Yeah, yeah… I promise." As soon as couple of cows fly out of my butt.

"Logan, don't lie to me."

"Fuck… You know I can't sleep. I just can't…"

* * *

No matter how perfectly I'm wrapped up to her scent and embrace, that feeling comes through, and it's safer for both of us if I stay awake. I haven't tried to claw her when I wake up, but only reason for that is probably the position we sleep. Both on our sides, Marie curled against my back. Started sleeping that way at the beginning when I still had nightmares from the lab, and the habit stayed. And I kind of like it that way. She's there, but she's behind me. Who ever wants to get her, has to come through me first.

* * *

"You're not Superman, and even he must sleep every now and then. You can't go on like that. You do realize you almost fell asleep when we waited the cashier to go through our groceries?" Uh… I really did that. Crap. Hey, it's not my fault that the woman was so fucking slow! Okay, I'm tired and it shows.

"I think it would be better if we got separate rooms. That way I can't hurt you if…"

"Separate rooms? Are you fucking nuts? We can't afford that!" Shit. I hate when she's right. She usually is.

"At least separate beds then. I can't sleep when all I'm thinking is if I'm going to wake up your carcass dangling from my claws!"

"Fine. We can do that. But only if you promise to really sleep. You're a walking disaster. You nearly skewered that poor waitress just because she passed our table too close." Now, back up a bit! She came out of nowhere! Brushed past us so fast that I thought… Christ. That mess would have been kind of hard to explain to the cops. I really need to sleep before I fuck things up completely. I only broke the coffee pot she was carrying, but the next thing I accidentally skewer might not be replaceable…

* * *

This doesn't feel good. As soon as I lay down, whole fucking room starts to spin. Round and round like some fucking merry-go-round. Closing my eyes isn't helping much, just adds the nice sinking feeling to that spinning. Not good on my side, not comfortable on my stomach, absolutely horrible on my back. And Marie? She just fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. It's not fair. My fucking eyes feel like somebody filled the sockets with sand and my every muscle is twitching. Haven't really slept well in these past four years, but I have learned to cope. Healing factor has been compensating, but looks like there's a limit of how much it can do. Shit.

* * *

"Logan? Where are you going?" Busted. B-U-S-T-E-D, it spells.

"Just to smoke…"

"You weren't going to sleep." Uh…

"Logan…"

"I can't! It fucking hurts just to close my eyes!"

" Come here." What the crap? I'm in no condition…

"Marie… Shit. It's not that I don't want… I'm too tired. I'm sorry, darling, but…"

"Haul your ass in your bed, right now!" Yes, ma'am! Jesus! She can be really scary…

"Turn on your stomach." What… Where is she going? What is she going to do with that?

"Marie, what are you doing?" Smells kind of nice, I think it's the same stuff she uses for her hands. Vanilla.

"I'm giving you a back rub." Oh…

"No wonder you can't sleep. You're so wound up…" Owww, shit! Don't know what she's poking and squeezing…

"Stop squirming. I know what I'm doing." Yeah? Trying to tear me a part limb from limb? I don't think my back's supposed to sound like fucking rice crispies…

"Breathe before you pass out." Breathe? How? Oh, fucking Christ…

"Kid… Just let me go, okay? I'll do anything… I'll go to sleep… Just let me go…" Oh, shit!

* * *

Mmm… This is actually starting to feel nice. As soon as she managed to get rid of the worst kinks… I don't know where she learned all this shit, but right now I don't fucking care, either. That floating and spinning feeling is back, but it's better now. Gentler. Like I'm laying on a waterbed. There are pins and needles in my fingertips, and they're getting warmer when she's kneading my arms.

"Careful… Don't go there…" Below my elbows. No-no. Big no-no. Too many nerves attached to entirely too many blades. Ohhh…

"Is this okay?"

"Yeah…" Better than okay… I think my bones just melted. She's rubbing my palms, squeezing and twisting… So many small muscles.

"You're really liking this, aren't you?"

"How can you tell?"

"You're humping the bed." Eh… Umm…

"Sorry…"

"Don't worry. Just close your eyes and relax..." Gladly.

* * *

"Marie!" Where the fuck is she? Where did she go? Why the hell it's so empty and cold in here?

"Marie!"

"I'm here… What is it?" Jesus! Oh, Christ… Bathroom. Right now.

"Logan! Open the door!" Nope. Find another toilet. This one's taken. And I have a feeling I'm going to keep hogging this joint for a while…

"Logan!"

"Go back to sleep… I'm o… O-kay…"

"No, you're not! You're puking your guts out again! What, do you think I'm deaf or just plain dumb?"

"Go to sleep… At least you can…" Aghh… Why do I even fucking bother to eat? Maybe I should ask them to stuff those burgers to a blender next time? Wouldn't look that gross coming back up. Wouldn't feel this gross. I shouldn't even be doing this! I do not get sick!

"Logan! Open this door right now!"

"Just a sec… It's open!" Oh, God… Fucking cramp! A… Can't breathe! Can't breathe!

"I'm going to put you down for a while." Huh? Wha… Marie? What the fuck are you doing to me? Let go! Let go! Let go of me! Marie… ?… Why?…

* * *

"Hi, honey. How are you doing?" What the hell do you think?

"Water…" She touched me. Fucking drained me! My own wife!

"Why?" Because I think she deserves a chance to explain her actions before I perform some exploratory surgery on her. I owe her that much.

"I'm sorry, but I had to do it. There was nothing left of your mutation. You would have died if I didn't knock you out. It wasn't just the dream anymore. Look…" My fingernails?

"See that line? It wasn't just a nightmare that made you sick. Your bones… They were poisoning you. I had to knock you out so that your mutation had the time to recharge and take care of the poisoning." Okay. I won't cut her up.

"Warn me next time when you do something like that, okay? I thought… I don't even know what I thought. Jesus, kid…"

"How do you feel now?" Hmm? Actually…

"Better. Not hundred percent, yet, but close."

"Good. I don't mean to sound bitchy, but do you think you would be up to a fight tonight? We're quite short on money. I used last to keep this room."

"How long was I out?"

"A week."

"Well, I think it's time to make myself useful again. Let me get up and…" Whoa… Still little dizzy. But I feel good. Rested. She's smart. My girl. I think we're going to do just fine on our own, as soon as we get settled.


	4. Settling In

Life has been pretty good. Ups and downs like every marriage has, but mostly it has been good. We live in a small apartment in a small town called Blackwater. Marie's a librarian. I work part-time bouncer and part-time mechanic. No big money, but we don't spend either. It's a good life. Maybe only downside of this is that we don't have any kids. At first we were both planning to have a big family. I don't know. Maybe it's her mutation. Maybe it's my mutation. Maybe we're not just that way compatible. Doc we visited couldn't find anything wrong from us, just told us to keep trying. And it sure as hell can't be the lack of it. Fourteen years married, and we're still on each other like couple of horny little weasels. Yeah. Life is good.

* * *

"Are you working tonight?"

"Nope. Gary hired some new guy few weeks ago, and he wants to see how the kid's doing on his own. God damned stupid if you ask from me. Frank couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag even if his life depended on it…"

"I don't mind. Got you all to myself…" Uh-huh… Put it that way and I don't mind either…

"Kitchen sink is getting clogged up again." Right. Should have guessed.

"Honey? I have a better idea. How about I look at the sink tomorrow after work? There's another kind of plumbing I'm interested right now…" Come here… Hmm? No underwear? Naughty girl…

"Lo-gan!"

"What?" Christ… She tastes so good… I could very well stay here the rest of my life, nibbling and suckling her nipples…

"Ah… You can't weasel your way out… Logan!" Hey! I wasn't finished yet!

"You can't use sex to squirm away from your other responsibilities… Oh… That's good…. Logan!"

"Honey, that sink won't run away. We can have some fun first…"

"Oh, fuck… Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"You're evil."

Did I already tell you how great my life is?

* * *

"Logan, wake up. Someone's at the door."

"Who the fuck… What's the time?"

"I don't know… Closer to four?" Can't be anything good. Only one up at this hour around here is usually Gary. Did the new guy actually got himself killed?

"Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe you should put some clothes on before you go and see who it is…" Heh. That would probably be a good idea.

* * *

"Wolverine." Oh, shit!

"Xavier. What the fuck do you want?" Because if you're planning to lure me back in, I have a surprise in store for you…

"We need to talk. I need your help." Fuck you, old man.

"I don't think so. Ask Summers. I'm sure he'd be willing to…"

"Scott is dead. The whole team is dead. They're… They came in the middle of the night. Caught us off-guard."

"And what do you need me for?" Because if it is some sort of twisted revenge-business, I'm retired. No more that shit for me, thank you very much.

"They killed almost everybody, but they took some of the kids with them. The ones with… Quite extreme gifts." Fuckfuckfuck. Shit.

"Marie? Come here." I can hear her. She's hiding in the kitchen, and I know she has heard every word we have spoken.

* * *

"I don't want you to go." Xavier was polite enough to give us details and leave with a promise to return in couple of hours to hear what we decided.

"But… They're just kids… Marie…"

"Oh, please! Xavier waltzes in and tells you a big-ass story, and you're willing to swallow it?" And they say I'm the paranoid one in this marriage…

"First of all, how do you explain his escape? One, crippled old man against trained professional killers. Against people who were able to wipe out the entire X-Team!" Well…

"He's a telepath, remember? Remember how easy it was for him to control even me?"

"How did he even found us?"

"We haven't been exactly hiding."

"Logan…"

"I'm sorry, darling. I am. But I have to go. I can't just leave those kids…"

"Fuck you! Do as you please! Just don't expect me to put pieces back together when he breaks you again!"

* * *

"So. How did you found us?" Marie's in the bedroom. I can't tell if she's sleeping or just sulking.

"Your new co-worker. Frank. He graduated two years ago." Frank? A mutie?

"He's a telepath, much like Jean and me. I asked him to inform me if he stumbled upon other people with gifts. Imagine my surprise when he called me two weeks ago and told me about you."

"You're trying to say you found us by accident?" Bullshit. Bullshit with a capital B.

"I tried to find you for the couple of first years. I won't lie to you. I was angry and bitter. But more I spend time in Cerebro, going through different minds and life-stories… I guess you could say I got a revelation of sorts. What I did to you, both of you, was wrong."

"And yet you're trying to do it again?"

"No. I have all the information you need in here. On paper. You don't have to let me in to your mind."

"What's the catch?"

"There is no catch. I just need your help with this situation." And why don't I like the sound of that? With Xavier there's always a catch.

"How long do I have to decide?"

"I was hoping you could go through these now and come with me as soon as possible. Before they have the time to tamper with those children." Fucker really knows what buttons to push…

"Fine. Give those to me and I see what I can do…"

* * *

"You did good." Shut up.

"Better than I expected. You haven't lost your edge." Shut up, shut up.

"I trust there were no problems?" Shut the fuck up already!

"No. No problems."

"Good. Here. Buss ticket to home and your reward." Ticket? That's okay.

"Keep the money."

"But…"

"I don't want your fucking money! Get the hell away from me! And if you ever… Ever feel like coming to visit us again… Don't. Find another pawn. I'm through with you now."

* * *

"Marie?" Oh, God…

"Hmmh? Logan?"

"Yeah. It's… Just me." Don't. Don't turn your back…

"Marie… Please…" They weren't older than she was when I saw her for the first time. Most of them were younger.

"You were right." Talk to me. Hit me. Scream to me. Anything.

"There was a catch."

"Go to sleep, I don't want to hear about it." Please… Please… I can't…

"Marie…"

"Logan! What… Who… What am I supposed to do?"

"Take care of her. I can't… Oh, fuck. Just let me stay for couple of weeks, okay? I can sleep on the couch. To get my head sorted out…" Don't kick me out yet. Two weeks until I'm fit and sane enough to take care of the baby.

"I'm not kicking you out. I just don't want to hear about it. But who's this?" Christ. She looks just adorable with that baby on her arms…

"I found her there. I couldn't… I was supposed to clear the whole place, but… She's so fucking tiny…"

"Logan, we can't keep her." And why the fuck not?

"She belongs to somebody. Her mother…"

"Is most likely dead or wishing she never had her in the first place." Nobody seemed to want her. Found her from the boiler room of that place. All ready to be disposed with rest of the waste.

"But… It's a big responsibility…"

"We're not the only couple in the world with a baby. Somehow people cope with them on daily basis. Even ordinary people. Shouldn't be too hard…"

* * *

I'm a fucking moron. Too hard? Tell it to the small critter that's screaming her lungs out at three at night, seemingly with no apparent reason.

"Would you please shut up before your mommy wakes up…" I have tried everything. She just keeps screaming. Not hungry. Diaper's okay. No gas. She burped after she last ate.

"Look… I'll make a deal with you. Keep your mouth shut now, and when you're little older, I might be willing to look through my fingers if you feel like sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night. Okay?" Right. There's one thing I haven't tried yet, but it looks like it's time to bring out the big guns. Jesus. I sure do hope Marie is really sleeping.

"Hush, little baby…" Couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. Christ. This hurts even my own ears. You better appreciate this, brat…

Things I do for my girls. Summers would turn in his grave…


	5. Just a Swing

"No. Nonono… See that? That's supposed to go there. Then you take this one here and put it there. See? It goes the same way every time. Just try it."

"Like this, daddy?"

"Uh… Yeah. Exactly. Just like that. Every time. You're doing great, kiddo."

* * *

I can't believe it has been seven years already. And every day Logan proves something he told me earlier to be wrong. Every day when he helps Anna with her homework, sitting with her patiently in the kitchen, hunched over pile of books with her.

When we were running from Xavier all those years ago, almost twenty all in all, he told me he wasn't smart. Not smart enough to be a teacher. Yet he has so much information and experience stored in to that thick skull of his, and he's able to transfer it to our daughter. She's absorbing his every word like a human sponge, learning so fast that she's already far ahead of her classmates.

Seven years ago she appeared in our life. We had already given up and settled down, just the two of us. No children. Then Xavier changed it all. It's funny how I have him to thank for the biggest joys of my life. Logan and Anna.

She doesn't know. She doesn't know how close the end of life was for her. At first I didn't want to hear a word about what happened, what went down on that last mission, but later… It became too much for Logan to bear alone. I don't blame him. Not after he told me what happened.

* * *

"She fell asleep already?" I snuggle closer to Logan when he wraps his arms around me from behind.

"Yeah. Poor thing… She was dog-tired. How about you? Tired?" Hands sliding slowly over my stomach, his hot breath tickling the side of my throat… Smug bastard…

"I was tired… Not anymore…"

"Good. I had some plans…"

"I'm sure you had." Kind of hard to miss how hard he is when his cock is poking my lower back.

"Those plans involve you, too. Naked. In our bed. Ten minutes ago." Oh, God. I guess it's a good thing he soundproofed our bedroom few years ago.

* * *

"Careful Anna! I'll wring your neck if you fall and hurt yourself!" He's so cute.

"Fuck. I can't watch… She better not hurt herself…"

"I'm sure she can manage. It's just a swing, honey."

"Fucking death-trap if you ask from me. Tell me when she snaps her neck or gets bored, which ever happens first…"

Overly protective? Sure as hell. I think it all boils down to our mutations. He knows that if I get hurt, he can heal me in no time. I can still put him in a coma, but he claims it's worth it. That's not the case with Anna. She's not a mutant. She has no gifts. No life-sucking skin. Every scratch and bruise she gets takes time to heal. It scares Logan. He would give his life for Anna, but she's unable to accept what he's offering.

He found Anna when she was just a tiny baby, probably just few hours old. Xavier had ordered him to clean up a compound where they were poking and prodding mutants in the name of science. Clean up. Even I can understand what that means. No loose ends. Somewhere in the bowels of that maze he had stumbled upon a loose end he couldn't tie up. Couldn't ram his claws through a helpless baby. At first he had thought that Anna was already dead. Just as he was leaving she had started to cry. He had just stood there, his back turned, for God knows how long. Calculating the odds. Finally he had just taken her with him, every instinct screaming to get her out of there.

I saw the clothes he had on back there before he burned them. He had been carrying Anna against his side, under his left arm. And how do I know that? Whole right side of his jacket and shirts was a bloodied mess of bullet holes and gaping tears, sleeve of his jacket nearly torn off, but there was not a mark on his left side. Not even the tiniest splatter of blood.


	6. The Question

"Daddy? What's a mutant?" Uhh… Last week she asked about sex and I told her to go ask from her mother. Marie was kind of pissed off after that, but hey, she's ten. Ten years old. Things I know about her chosen subject weren't exactly rated to her age group.

"A mutant? Where did you hear that word?" How much she already knows? She knows that mommy and daddy are special, but we haven't used that word –mutant- on purpose. There are people around us who are better off not knowing exactly what we are.

"I heard Tommy shouting it to this one kid in school."

"Uh-huh… Hand me that hammer, would you?"

"He shouted to that girl to stay away from us because she was a filthy mutant. I don't think she was filthy. She had clean clothes on and everything. But her eyes were bit funny… All yellow."

"Yellow? What did you think about it?" Night vision, maybe?

"They were different. Pretty. I liked the way she looked, but when Tommy shouted at her she got scared and run away."

"I don't want you to hang out with Tommy anymore. He sounds like bad news to me…"

"Dad…"

"Anna, trust me on this. On the long run you're better off without him."

* * *

Nice. Why do I even bother to try? And where the fuck is Marie when something like this happens? In a fucking conference. On an other side of the fucking world.

"Anna?"

"Go away!"

"Not before you open this door and we have a little talk."

"We talked already! You don't like my friends, so I don't like you!" Logic of a ten-year-old never ceases to amaze me. Everything's black and white to her.

"Fine. You don't have to like me. But open this door. I didn't have the chance to answer your question."

"What question?" Snappy. Preparing to bite my head off. She learned that tone from Marie, for that I'm sure.

"You wanted to know what a mutant is."

"Like you would know…" Oh, fuck this. Marie will have my hide once she gets back home…

* * *

"Dad! How did you get in… What are those?!" Eyes glued to my claws. She has seen them exactly once before, and I kind of doubt she remembers that. She was about three hours old at that time.

"I'm a mutant. Just like your mom. Mutants… We are just people. Different kind of people."

"Special?"

"Special. Every one of us. As special as every living creature on this planet." She's trembling a little. Afraid? A little. Fuck. Wasn't really my intention to…

"Daddy?" Claws back in. Oh, sit! Haven't needed them for a while. Forgot how it hurts… Ah…

"Yeah… Pumpkin?"

"Do they hurt? Your claws?" Well, what the fuck do you think, brainiac?

"No… They don't hurt… Come on. Want some hot coco?"

* * *

"What about mom? Does she have claws, too?" How the hell to explain this? Come on… There has got to be a way!

"No. She's different than me. I have claws and I heal from everything. She… She can borrow my mutation." Yeah. That'll work. For now.

"Like if she gets hurt. It's her skin. She can touch me with a special way, and her skin takes a small bit from my healing, and that way I can heal her."

"Oh…" Pat on the back would be in order right about now. I think I handled that pretty well…

"Is that why she kept asking you to touch her last night? Did she got hurt?" What the hell?

"What do you mean, pumpkin?"

"I was supposed to be sleeping already, but I couldn't get sleep. I was reading in my bed when I heard mommy shouting that you should touch her already." Oh. Um…

"Yeah. She... She struck her toe to a coffee table..."

"Daddy? You're blushing! I'm going to tell mom that you blushed!"

Marie. Please. Come home. Come home before I stuff our precious daughter to a cardboard box and ship her to Antarctica.


	7. Not suitable

"Where's Anna?"

"She didn't come to the library?"

"No. I haven't seen her since she left to school." Shit.

"If I find out she's been out with Tommy again I'll…"

"Logan! Calm down! He's Anna's boyfriend!" Boyfriend my ass. I have seen that punk hanging around with some bad people. Kind of with swastikas tattooed to every bare inch of their skin and nasty blades hidden to the sleeves of their jackets.

"I have told her about thousand times how I feel about Tommy. He's no good for her."

"Is there even such a thing? Good enough boyfriend for Anna?" Fuck you. You know perfectly well what I mean.

"I'm sure there are several suitable candidates. I don't like the company Tommy's keeping. Same guys beat up and raped that mutant girl from few blocks away from here last spring. Remember?"

"And you blame Tommy for that? He wasn't even in town when it happened!"

"Doesn't mean a thing. Had he been here that night, he would have been there with them, cheering and getting his part from the loot. I know him. I know guys like him…" I can't believe she's that naïve! It's Anna we're talking about!

"Have you ever even talked with him? Other than growled and threatened to strangle him if you find him anywhere near Anna?" Nope. If I spend too much time in close proximity to that brat my knuckles start to itch. And it's not allergy…

"Logan?"

"Why this has to be so fucking difficult? Everything was just fine when she was just a kid. Now… Fuck. I'm getting old. Too old for this shit…"

* * *

"Who was it at the phone? At this hour?" Do the math. There are exactly two people in this house right now. Anna is missing.

"Anna. Tommy's car died down. Needed somebody to pick them up." Oh, I will pick her up. Bring her home and lock her to her room. She will get out of there when she's about eighty years old.

"Maybe I should come with you…"

"For what? Afraid that I'll ventilate that poor kid?" Because I sure as hell would like to.

"No. But I could use some fresh air. I'm not that sleepy after all…" Yeah? You're a fucking poor liar, Marie. Always were.

"I was going to take the bike. There's room for one passenger only."

"You're going to leave Tommy to the side of the road?"

"No. I'm going to leave him to the gas station from where Anna called. He's big enough to take my little girl to a drive. He's big enough to find his way home after that…"

Oh, fuck. Maybe I'm just a paranoid asshole. Too wound up and beaten to this world. But the thing is, when I look at Tommy, I don't see what Marie and Anna see. They see an average kid with average looks, well, maybe Anna sees something more, but you get my point… I see every fucking thing that is wrong in this world. Every fucking insult and obscenity I have had to swallow. Scalpels. Hot, liquid metal. He doesn't even have to talk or move. His whole posture screams trouble and danger to me. I know those people he hangs around from time to time have connections to all kinds of 'Humanity First' –movements. I would hate to see Anna get hurt because of me. Because of what Marie and me are. And it's only a matter of time before she slips out something. I have been waiting for that to happen from the day she came to me and asked what a mutant was. That was seven years ago. Seven fucking years and I haven't managed to scare that brat off from her skirt. Persistent little fucker…

* * *

"Good evening, mister D'Ancanto."

"Tommy." Little prick. Drop dead.

"Daddy!"

"Hi pumpkin. Had some car trouble?"

"Yes. Uhh… Could you… Would it be possible for you to take a look…" Jesus. Brat is practically wetting himself.

"Anna, go and wait me over there. I'll go and see if there's anything I can do." Good girl. Practically glued herself to the bike.

* * *

"Okay. What happened?" Because as far as I can tell, there's nothing wrong with Tommy's wheels. Engine is purring like a pussycat.

"I know what you are." Ah-ha!

"And what are you going to do with that information?" If he thinks there's big money waiting for him, he's in for a huge surprise.

"Nothing. I have known for years now. I know you and Anna's mom are both mutants."

"And…" He better cough up rest of that sentence pretty fast before this sick urge to skewer him grows too big to resist.

"I heard some guys talking about you earlier tonight. They're going to burn down your house tomorrow night. Flush you out and finish you all to the spot."

"And you're telling me this because…" What is he looking at? Oh… Anna.

"I may have a problem with muties. But I have no problem with her. Leave. Take her with you. Keep her safe." Well, what do you know? Little prick has some balls and a backbone after all…

* * *

"Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"What did you talked about with Tommy?"

"Cars. We talked about cars. And bikes."

"Oh… For a moment I was afraid that… I know you don't like him. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you earlier today where I was going."

"Don't worry about it, pumpkin. Tommy and me... We have our differences, but I guess he's an okay kid…"

"Thanks, dad!"

"That still doesn't mean that I want you to hang around with him."

"Dad…" Crap. How to tell her that she's not going to see Tommy anytime soon again? Most likely never? Fuck. Have to talk with Marie first. She'll know what to do. She'll know what to say. I'm no good with words. At the end of the day there's only one thing I'm wired for.


	8. Call Of The Wild

"Honey, you need a new ID."

"For what?" I thought we got past that stage already. After we left Blackwater. We changed identities. That was ten years ago. Lot has happened after that. Anna moving out and getting married was maybe the biggest event.

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?" I do it every morning when I put on make-up. Are you implying that I'm getting old?

"Yes. I have. Something wrong with the way I look?"

"No. No other than that you look younger than Anna. There's no way in hell the next cop that pulls you over will believe that you're nearly sixty years old. Maybe thirty. If it happens to be a cross-eyed cop…" Oh… We have been touching every now and then. Just small cuts and bruises, and once a broken arm when I fell from the roof when I was cleaning the rain pipes from leaves and moss. Some of his healing has lingered, and kept me from aging. Forever young.

"A new ID with different year of birth, and you don't have to put on so heavy make-up anymore…" Umm… What?

"I don't know if you have noticed it, but you're trying to hide your face. And those clothes of yours, they just have got to go! I don't fucking care if you're twelve or hundred, but I'm kind of getting sick and tired of those granny-outfits. Tomorrow we're going shopping." They say honesty hasn't killed anybody. They haven't met Logan. They never will. Not after I bury his carcass in to that flowerbed I made on the back yard yesterday.

* * *

"Now, that's better…"

"Logan! You can't come in here!"

"I can't?" No. Not the eyebrow. Not in here.

"Logan…"

"What?" Stop. Don't touch there. Don't… Oh, God. I have been meaning to come in to this boutique for ages. To shop. I don't want to get thrown out of here because we can't keep our hands to ourselves.

"Get out. Now."

"I thought you needed my help… Those pants look awful tight. Maybe I should help you to get out of those…" No. Nonono…

"Let me get those buttons for you…"

"Lo-gan! I still have some shirts I have to try on…"

"Then you won't be needing your bra either. I noticed quite a few sleeveless numbers on that pile you collected…" Oh fuck… He's too good at this.

* * *

"This is just great! I can never go back in there!"

"Why the hell not? I thought you liked those clothes. I liked them on you."

"Are you sure? You seemed to like me much more when you got me undressed. Did you see how the cashier looked at us?"

"Come on! What can you expect when you prance around in leather and silk?"

"For you to have decency and restraint enough not to fuck me in that stall?"

"Decency and restraint? Honey… Forgot who you are married to?"

"Oh, God. I think one of those girls in the next stall was Anna's co-worker…"

"She was. And the chick that showed you around was her friend from the university. Anna brought her over us few times when they were studying." Shit. There are things I would rather not know.

* * *

"So… Now that you're officially retired thirty year old, what would you like to do?" Retired?

"I didn't retire. I quit before they started asking questions. I have noticed Sarah and Betsy staring at me when they think I don't see them."

"Okay. Now that we're both unemployed, what would you like to do?" What?

"Logan…" He has been a bouncer nearly nine years. A small pub.

"New owner, new tricks. Turned that place to a nightclub. Told me he wanted some new blood to the door. Said that I was scaring off customers. Little prick. Like I don't know how to behave… I was hanging coats and throwing out drunks when he was still in his fucking diapers…"

"We could always hit the road."

"You think so? What about Anna?"

"I think Bobby might have some objections if we just waltzed in to their place and took away with his wife…"

"Marie… You know that's not what I meant." I knew that. But it's so freaking easy to rile him up.

"I'm sure she can manage. She has Bobby. She has her friends. And we can always visit. It's not like we're taking a trip to the Mars. We can always come back. But I think it could be nice. Just the two of us. Truck. Open road… Come on! Look me in the eye and tell me you don't miss it." Logan's become surprisingly domesticated, but lately I have seen signs. Small twitches. Nervous way he keeps twirling a box of matchsticks. Longing glances he throws towards the road that leads out of here. His feet are itching. And truth to be told, so are mine.

* * *

Bike roars past me. Cocky bastard. We have been driving towards north, and it's only couple of hours before we reach Laughlin city. The place where this all started. Weather is absolutely horrible. Water, ice and snow are practically pouring from the sky. I can barely see through windshield, but does it slow him down? Nope. He insisted to take the bike, and he looks like he's having the time of his life. I'm beginning to think that some kind of middle-age crisis has hit him. The eternal badass. Shit. I have to pull over soon.

"Logan? I'm going to stop for a while." Radio crackles. Shitty reception, but I can hear his voice. His only acknowledgement for the weather. He's wearing his helmet. It has a built-in radio. Makes communication much easier.

"Are you going to be alright?" Translation: Is it okay if I abandon you in the middle of nowhere because my knuckles and beer-tooth are itching?

"I'll be just fine, honey. Go ahead. I'll catch up with you later."

"I'll come and get you if you don't show up in few hours, okay?"

"Okay. See you later."

* * *

Jesus. Is it even possible to look that good? I remember when I saw him for the first time. I was so fucking scared and insecure. Freaked out. I noticed back then already the potential in him, but right now… That bare chest and rippling muscles… Small smirk tugging the corner of his mouth when he leans against the wired fence of the cage arms propped above his head. Small trickles of sweat rolling over his skin…

"Hi, gorgeous… What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" He takes a slow drag from his cigar, eyes studying my face.

"Came looking for a man."

"Found him yet?"

"I think I'll go home with the winner tonight…" I have to turn my back before my knees turn to Jell-O. It should be illegal to look that edible after five-hour drive through freezing hell. I need a drink.

"Kid?" Jesus. He hasn't called me that in years!

"Yeah?"

"Catch." A set of keys?

"I got us a room. Across the road."

"Okay…" Now I really need that drink. If not for anything else, to fend off impending dehydration. My mouth is suddenly awfully dry, but other parts of me are getting soaked…


	9. Bike Trouble

This is just too good. Vast expanse of snow on both sides of the road, black asphalt glistening and rippling under the sun. Small, ant-like dot in the distance. Logan. Looks like he got in to some trouble with the bike. Well, he wanted to drive. Feel the wind in his hair. Can feel all the wind he likes… What's he doing now? Looks like… Binoculars, where did I put those… There.

Oh, yeah. He took of his jacket and shirts. There are some screws and bolts on the ground. Grease stains on his fingers. And how the fuck he can crouch wearing those jeans? Or even move without getting a permanent hard-on? From where did he even found those? I think… Yeah. They're the same jeans he got on when we first met. Jesus. He doesn't look a day older… I'm a perv. Here I am, sitting on the hood of the truck, spying shamelessly while my poor husband is trying to fix his beloved bike. I'm a horrible… What? What is he doing now?

Standing up and stretching his back, hands behind his back pulling his pecks taut and making his abs rippling. Face turned towards the sun, eyes narrowed to tiny slits. He's worked up little sweat; it's beading between his shoulderblades. What… He's taking his jacket… Logan, no!

Phew. No jacket. He just took out a cigar from the pocket. Smoke's twirling around him in lazy patterns. Wind just died down. Looks like this is going to become a warm day. And from the way Logan's leaning to the bike, practically lounging upon it, we will be here for a while. I really have no objections.

He's taking his time, just soaking up the sun. All that bare skin and muscle spread over black leather of the seat of his bike. He's reaching for the radio… Better get in the cab.

"You might as well come down her ogling me. There's a screw loose somewhere. Can't find it. This might take a while…" His voice flows from the speaker like syrup. Thick and lazy.

"Okay. I'll be there in a sec."

"Kid?"

"Yeah?"

"Love you."

"I… Love you, too, honey…"

I haven't heard those words coming out of that mouth ever. Not once during these forty-four years I have known him. Logan doesn't talk. He doesn't share his feelings, not even with me. He always says that stuff like that is for pansies. A pansy like Summers was. Have I gone through some sort of portal? Is this some kind of alternate universe? Not that I didn't like that sudden declaration, but…

I should stop grinning like a freaking idiot and drive over there.

"Marie?"

"Yeah?"

"What's taking you so long? Haul your ass down here. It's getting kind of cold without my girl on my side…"

"Coming. I'm coming…" As soon as my hands stop trembling so that I can turn on the engine…

"Don't you dare to come without me…"

"Logan!" Only thing turning on while he's purring like that is me.

* * *

"What's the problem?" I try to sound casual, but it's pretty damn hard when he's laying there, eyes closed and sun dancing over that naked expanse of skin and muscle.

"There's a bolt loose somewhere. Could hear it rattling. Now I can't find the damn thing…" His eyes are closed. Stub of cigar lies on the ground, squashed like a bug. He looks awfully comfortable.

"So instead of fixing it you decided to put up a strip show?" I run my fingers over his stomach, down to his side and he chuckles.

"Tickles… Yeah. Figured I could lure you down here in no time…"

"For what?"

"You have smaller hands than I. I think it's somewhere behind the engine…"

"No fair. You can't use sex to…"

"I can't?" And there goes the eyebrow. I fucking hate him.

"I'll get grease all over me…"

"So? Take off your shirt. It's not like there's a lot of traffic to be worried about."

"It's so cold. I'll freeze to death or something." Again that eyebrow.

"Come on. Since when have you gotten such a prude?"

"You're not planning to fix the bike?"

"Nope."

"There's nothing really wrong with it?"

"Nope." Well, in that case…

I may be many things, but prude? I think he stripped off last bits of my prudeness when he fucked me in Laughlin, right after the match in that bar. There were few customers still left, too drunk to care what was going on, and even the bartender was quite oblivious about what was happening when Logan took me against the cage. Oblivious, or gotten used to people shagging after fights like rabid weasels.

* * *

Shirt off. Hood of the truck has warmed in the sun, it's actually quite comfortable place to lie down. Even with three hundred and plus pounds of muscle and adamantium covering me. Logan's usually so fucking careful, almost as if he were afraid that he could break me. Restrained and leashed. Now there's not a trace of that restraint left. His kisses leave my lips numb and swollen. His hips are grinding against me hard enough to dent the metal under my buttocks. It's turning me on like nothing has done before. When he turns his attention to my breasts and starts laving and suckling my nipples I can't suppress my screams. I can't keep my hands off from his hair. I'm squirming, scratching and kicking. He doesn't seem to mind. Just settles his weight firmer on me, to keep me under his frame. His hands slide lower, under my buttocks. Those strong fingers kneading, finding the warmth and moisture that has soaked through my jeans.

"Take these off…" He murmurs, trying to open the buttons of the fly.

"Let me…" I don't want him to ruin these jeans. Most comfortable pair I own… He knows it and lets me stand up so that I can take them off, rather than cutting them away from me.

"Much better…" His fingers slide over my folds, first teasing.

"Logan…" Shit. He's going to make me beg for it. I can feel how hard he is, his cock throbbing through his jeans, but that look on his face… He's going to draw this out. Not a quickie this time. He draws a moist path with his fingers from my cleft to my breasts and follows it with his tongue, smirking when I try to push his head lower.

"Impatient, are we?"

"I'll show you impatient…" I grab his hair and pull him back on top of me, nibbling and biting his lips and throat. He thrusts against me, denim of his jeans brushing against my clit and I'm fucking ready to fall apart. I manage to slide my hands between us and start unbuttoning his fly.

I can hear couple of trucks passing us, one of them even honks for us, but I don't care. My world has suddenly gotten very small. There's nobody else than me and Logan, his cock plowing through my wetness, making every nerve ending in me tingle. I can hear metal under me creaking under the strain. I wrap my legs tighter around Logan's waist, my hands grasping his clenching buttocks. This is too good to be true. He's pounding me like there's no tomorrow, slight grimace twisting his face, teeth bared. Deeper. Every stroke deeper than the one before.

* * *

"Eventually we have to move…"

"Yeah… Just… Not yet, okay?" Well, I'm in no hurry. Hood of the truck has adjusted against my back, and I have warm Logan-blanket spread all over me. Life is good.


	10. On The Run Again

"Logan?"

"Yeah…"

"How did it go?"

"Just fine. Go back to sleep. I'll take a shower…" He sounds so tired. More tired than he should be. Lights on.

"Logan!"

"What?"

"What the hell happened to you?" Clothes torn and bloodied, bruises on his face still fading.

"Took a tumble with the bike. Don't worry about it. Just go back to sleep." Bullshit. You don't get to lie to me, mister…

"Those are fucking bullet holes on your back!" Some of them are still bleeding.

"There's nothing to worry about. I took care of it. Go back to sleep, Marie." You don't get to say to me what to do. We're in this together.

"They know. They found out. We have to go…"

"Nobody knows a shit, Marie. I took care of it. Some punks thought they could mess up with me. Scared them for good. They won't be coming back anytime soon."

"But… What if they talk? There are people who'd pay anything…"

"They won't be talking if they know what's best for them. Remember Tommy?" What does he have to do with this?

"I called to him. He said he was going to take care of them. We have nothing to worry about."

* * *

For the last ten years this world has gone straight to hell. Mutants are considered a threat to humanity. Rumors are spreading fast. Last week we heard about a new weapon they're developing. Some kind of giant robots, specially designed to slaughter us. Slaughter mutants. I quit in a diner I had been working. Logan's still bartending, but it won't take long before we have to leave. Keep running. Fuck. Sometimes I feel like that's all we have done from the beginning to this day.

* * *

"You know… There are times that I'm so fucking relieved that Anna's not our real daughter…" Logan's sitting on the lid of the toilet seat, waiting for the water in the shower to warm up.

"At least she's safe. Adele is safe. And Bobby." Adele. Our granddaughter. We haven't seen them in six years. It's not safe to visit. They're better off without us. Logan's staring a faded picture he pulled from the pocket of his jeans. It was taken when Adele was just born. When it was still possible to pretend that we were just normal, ordinary humans.

"She was so fucking tiny…" We are all in the picture; one of the nurses took it. Anna sitting on a bed, holding Adele. Bobby standing next to her, hand wrapped around her shoulders. I'm standing behind Anna. Logan's standing next to me. Everybody's smiling and looking at the camera. Everybody except Logan. He's smiling, too, but his eyes are cast downwards, towards Adele.

"Come on. Let's get you cleaned up." It's a short struggle to get that picture away from him, but finally he lets go of it. I put it back to the pocket.

"I miss them…" Logan whispers and ducks his head under the spray of water. He doesn't cry often. He thinks it makes him somehow less of a man if he lets his hurt show.

* * *

"And what'll it be for the lady?" I don't come here often, but tonight is different. Last night Logan's working. We're leaving tomorrow morning. Time to head back to north.

"Hmm… What would you recommend?" Truth to be told I'm getting tired of beer and whiskey, but I have very poor imagination when it comes to booze. Logan leans over the counter and winks at me, smirk tugging the corner of his mouth.

"Maybe something long and stiff from under table…" Customer sitting next to me, businessman wearing an expensive suit nearly chokes to his drink.

"Hmmm… I might be persuaded to try it… But maybe later. Bring me a beer, honey."

"One beer coming right up."

I settle on the stool more comfortably and let my gaze rest on Logan when he scurries back and forth, mixing drinks and chatting with customers. There's not a hint of last night's ordeal in his posture. Mask on. None of these yuppies know him. Know us. They know the lively bartender. They don't know, they don't even care to know the real person under the black shirt and trousers Logan wears. He has started shaving off his muttonchops, and his smooth face blends right in. Hair is still as wild as ever, but that only adds to his disguise. Men chat with him about hockey and football scores, women hit on him. More than couple of times I have heard them guessing his measures. Some outrageously overrating him, some hitting closer to the truth. They would like to bed him. There are times I would like to go to them and ask if they would be willing to face the animal behind the man. The animal that surfaces nowadays more often than ever before. He's constantly alert, on the edge. I can't blame him. Not when I myself sleep one eye open. Listening every small creak and rattle, ready to bounce and run if the need arises.

"Give me another one."

"Sure. Having a good time?" Logan asks, plunking a new pint in front of me. I take a sip and nod. Don't really have any complaints. It's nice and quiet night. Though businessman sitting next to me keeps staring at me maybe too intensively, but I have already gotten used to men watching me. Nearly seventy years in a body of thirty years old gives me an odd air. Something people keep noticing if they look too closely.

"About tomorrow… I'll drive. Keep the bike in the trailer."

"Why?" Usually I have to practically force him in the truck.

"Heard that there might be some nasty weather coming this way…" Oh, shit.

"Should clear up once we get over the border, but way there might be a bit rough."

* * *

"Ready to go?" Last glance to the small house I have learned to call home during these years.

"Yeah." Logan turns on the engine.

"You have your vest on?" Something he bought me few years ago. Bulletproof vest. It doesn't replace his healing, but gives us more time in situations where he can't touch me immediately. I knock the chest plate with my knuckles. It's heavy and chafing, but it has saved my life two times already. Instead of ugly, messy holes I got only huge bruises.

"Do you have yours?" Logan throws me an annoyed glance. The one asking 'do I really have to'.

"Put it on, mister! I don't want to wake up from some ditch just because you were too macho to protect your precious innards!" It happened once. Logan drove over a cliff when a bullet pierced his heart.

"Fine…" He gets up from the driver's seat and shuffles around in the camper for a while. When he returns he looks bulkier. Moving more stiffly. He hates to be restrained that way, but I feel better knowing that it'll take quite a lot to hurt him now. He may not die to his wounds, but he feels the pain just like anybody else.

"Now we are ready to go."


	11. One Of Them

"Uncle Logan! Uncle Logan!"

"What is it, Addy?"

"Look! I found a ladybird!"

"Must be the first one for this spring…"

* * *

Anna came to us when the dying started. When they unleashed the plague they called the Legacy. Bobby had already died. Anna was sick. For some reason it skipped over Adele. It was year ago. Anna lasted nearly a week. Ground was still frozen when I dug her grave. That day with a shovel did me good. Marie and Adele stayed in the cabin, talking and crying. At the end of that day I had honest blisters on my palms and deep enough hole in the ground to put Anna in.

She's only eight years old. Can't help smiling when she runs bouncing to Marie to show her the ladybird. Last spring she was just a broken shell, kept crying all over the winter. Then one day she just stopped and started to live again. Kids are surprisingly resilient. They'll bounce back no matter how hard the blow is.

* * *

"Have you counted her dots yet?" Marie. Have to give her credit for keeping up with us. Adele and me… We were both a complete mess.

"Go on. Try it before it flies away."

"Can they fly?" And I had thought her eyes couldn't get any larger. Jesus. Wide as saucers. She's a living picture of her mother.

"Hey!"

"I told you. But I'm sure you can find another one. Maybe you should ask Logan to help." Fuck. Marie. You'll pay for this. Hunting bugs with the kid? Come on!

* * *

Right. Who the fuck am I fooling? Can't even lie to myself. Here I am, crawling on my hands and knees, sniffing out caterpillars and ants, because that freaking ladybird appeared to be only one of its kind around here.

"Over there, uncle Logan!" Ow, fuck! Stop fucking kicking me, kid!

"Yeah. I see that. How many do you need anyway?" Jar she's handing me over my shoulder is already filled with different kinds of squirming and crawling critters. And I have to admit that playing a combined horse and anteater is getting on my nerves. I'm not built to creep around with small girl riding on my back.

"I'm going to build an ant farm!" Not in my cabin, kiddo. These critters will chew through the logs faster than I can replace them.

"Maybe we should go and see what Marie's doing?" Please?

"Giddyap, horsy!" Stop kicking! I'm going, I'm going!

* * *

"I had already forgotten what it is like…" Adele's sleeping. My favorite moment of the day. I can hear her breathing from the open door of the cabin. Marie's sitting next to me on the porch. Last rays of the sun are still flickering in the horizon. I'm beaten and tired to the bone, just for spending my day looking after Adele. It's completely different kind of exhaustion than the one that comes from good tumble in the cage. Fights leave me always restless and yearning for more. More blood. More sweat. More sex. But wandering around with Adele… It calms me down.

"It's easy to forget. But it comes back fast. I guess it's kind of like riding a bicycle. You may forget, but the skill stays no matter how long has it been from the last time…" Marie's tired, too. And nervous for some reason.

"We can't hide forever, you know. One day they will come for us."

"They can try. They'll have to get through me first before they can lay their hands on you and Adele." And that's the truth. I'm through with running. Next one trying to scare us on the move is in for a surprise. I'm sick and tired of being kicked around. Not anymore.

"What's going to happen when Adele gets older?"

"What do you mean?"

"Pretty soon she won't be interested about bugs and survival. She needs friends. Children of her own age." The very can of worms I have been avoiding from the moment I saw Anna standing at our doorstep, Adele in tow. I knew then already that she was going to die. Scent of it was strong enough to make me gag.

We don't have electricity. No computer, no phone. No TV. I even sold the bike and the truck before we retreated to this little hideout of ours. Fewer contacts to the outer world, less possibilities to get caught. Left one connection out of the equation. Adele. No matter how I twist and turn it, Marie's right. Right now Adele is more than happy when she can stay with us, but far too soon we're not going to be enough. We have been teaching her to read and write, and some other stuff we remember Anna had to learn when she was at her age, but it isn't enough. She needs more than we have to offer. We're just muties trying to get through the day. She's one of them.


	12. Change Of Plan

The most fucked up thing about viruses is that they keep coming back. Just when you think it's over and it's safe to breathe again, those fucking critters swarm you and you're fucked.

* * *

"Logan?" Don't talk to me.

"Logan?" Don't touch me.

* * *

We were planning to return to the road for a while. Thought we could find some good people and leave Adele with them. Maybe some nice couple with kids of their own.

* * *

"Logan." Keep your hands to yourself.

"Logan…" Stay the fuck away from me!

* * *

We explained things to her. Just sat in the kitchen and talked. She cried a little, but she understood. She was surprisingly smart kid. We were going to wait yet another year.

* * *

"You don't have to do this now." Yes. I have to.

"There's time. You can leave it until tomorrow." No. I can't and you know that. There's no leaving this for tomorrow.

* * *

First week she kept asking at least million and one questions. Could she go somewhere where they had TV and a real bathroom? Was there ice cream? Could she have a dog? Some new clothes? Would she have to go to school? Drove me nuts, but I tried to answer to every one of those questions.

* * *

"You're tired." No shit, Sherlock?

"Come on. I'll make us some coffee. Please." No. Not now. I have to do this first. Maybe after…

* * *

Second week went by more fluently. She wasn't as jittery anymore. Made me build that goddamned ant farm instead. I made it after she promised she would keep it away from the cabin. She was practically beaming when I got it finished. Her own little world complete with a queen, soldiers and drones. Yes. I dug through three hives before I found that fucking queen, but her smile was worth it. That farm kept her entertained through the third week.

* * *

"Logan, it's getting dark already." Thanks for the heads up. Kind of noticed it already.

"It's raining." Yeah. My jacket's already soaked through. Doesn't matter. I'm not made out of sugar.

* * *

I should have noticed it sooner. It took me three days to realize that something was wrong. Adele was tired and little feverish. We thought it was just flu. A fucking flu. Right.

* * *

"Logan, let go of that shovel."

"I can't Marie. It's raining now, but tomorrow's going to be a hot day. She'll start to reek pretty ripe before the noon. I have to do this now." Because tomorrow I won't be able to do much more than crawl to a corner, curl up and hope to die. I'm tired of this shit. So fucking tired of watching people disappear from around me. Adele, Anna only recently, so many more before them.

After it had taken Anna Legacy had hid inside of Adele. Staying dormant. Don't know what woke it up. This morning she woke up with a headache and I knew. Started digging this grave little after noon. She died at three o'clock. Marie was with her. I have been out here, digging. Ground is soft, but rocky. Deeper I get, the bigger boulders I have to haul up.

* * *

"At least stop for a while. I'll bring you something to eat." How the hell she can even think about eating?

"I… I made some bread and there's stew and potatoes." Made some bread? What the fuck is wrong with her?

"I dressed her to that blue shirt and those jeans she liked and braided her hair. After that… After that there was nothing else to… Nothing else to do, so I… I…"

"Fine. I'll come to eat."

* * *

She looks like she's just sleeping. Little girl, fallen to sleep after long day. Too tired to change to her pajamas. Only thing giving up the truth is the scent. It's too faint for Marie to notice, but to me it's plain as a day. There's no life in her. She won't be asking piggy-bag rides anymore. She won't be taking care of that ant farm. She won't be following me around, talking and scaring off the prey when I'm hunting. She won't be growing up and leaving us. She will be sleeping next to her mother.

Have to carve her a stone. For both of them. When Anna died, I was too fucked up to do much anything more than cry. Then I had to take care of Adele, and I kind of forgot the whole thing. Have to ask Marie what kind of stone she would want for them. As soon as she's able to talk about them without bursting to hysterics. Might take some time, but that's something we have. We have all the time in the world, and nothing to use it for.


	13. 120

Her 120 birthday. We have been married longer than most people live. Yet she looks like sin in those knee-high boots and that leather skirt. Bikini top she wears barely covers her nipples. Flawless, creamy skin, toned body, long, flowing hair… All mine. Mine to take and touch. They can watch. They can watch all they like, but at the end of the night, when her shift's over, it's me she's leaving with. It's me who she begs for. It's me who gets to undress her. It's me who gets to knead those pert breasts and buttocks. It's my name that she screams when she comes, those long legs hiked up to my shoulders.

Not once have we strayed during these years. Look, don't touch. That policy has worked well. Seems to be working even now. She's weaving through the crowd with ease, avoiding sticky paws with a skill born from experience, holding a tray high above her head with one hand, collecting tips with another and tucking them under the waistband of her skirt. I don't have to do it, but I often find myself watching her instead of keeping my eye on the actual crowd. Slightest sway of her hips is still enough to give me a hard-on.

During these years world has turned a full circle. Once again mutants are more of a rumor than an actual, living entity. We're something they keep whispering about when the lights go out. There's not so many of us alive anymore. What they started with the Sentinels, they finished with the Legacy.

I'm working as a bouncer in this shithole, Marie as a waitress. It's a good living. We have even managed to buy a small apartment with the money we're making, and I'm planning to buy a new bike. I have my sights set on one that's almost exact replica of my old one.

* * *

"Hi, honey! Care to clear me up?" Don't mind a bit, darling… Every now and then Marie comes to me to drop off cash she's carrying. Usually she just tosses me a rolled up wad. Sometimes she has her hands full, and I get to grope her all I like while pretending to be clumsy enough to let those bills slide inside of her skirt. Don't really mind a bit…

"Logan!"

"Not so loud, darling. Don't want an audience…" You would think things would have gotten quite boring and cold between us for decades ago. Same face. Same dick. Same clit. Nope. But we have gotten quite skilled at teasing each other in public places.

"Come on… I have three more hours before I get off…" Wrong. It'll take quite a while longer before you get off, but you finish your shift in three hours.

"Just something to keep you on your toes…" I have barely touched her, and she's all ready to go, cheeks flushed, scent of her arousal mingling with the smoke twirling around us.

"I'm on my toes all the time with you…" She murmurs, puts down the tray she's carrying and grasps my hair, yanking my head backwards and nipping my throat hard enough to leave a mark.

* * *

Fuck. Like I said, we have both learned how to play this game. Why the hell do I wear these jeans… And what the hell is going on down there? Is that a knife?

You'd think that they learned from the first time. Or at least from the second. I guess some people are just born that way. Morons. How the hell else could you explain the amount of knives I have confiscated from Jack during these two years I have worked in here? I'm starting to get seriously tempted to drag him to the back alley of this place and show him a set of blades of my own, but that would ruin everything. Jack's a regular. If he went missing, people would start asking questions. Wrong kind of questions.

* * *

"Ready to go?" She smells of sweat, smoke and booze when she wraps her hands around me from behind. She's tired, but there's one scent that covers it all, making me more than ready to pick her up and slam her against the wall, take her hard and fast, to hell with last customers still trying to find their way out of here.

"Just about it… Greg! I'm leaving now!" Big man behind the bar gives me a knowing wink and flails his goodbyes for tonight.

We get as far as to the truck, before the urge to have her gets the better of me. I crush her against the hood of the truck. She's as impatient as I am, tearing off my shirt and leaving deep gauges from her fingernails over my chest in the process.

"Faster…" It's kind of hard to get the fly open when she keeps rubbing herself against my crotch, but finally I'm free to plunge in to her. Took her panties off earlier when she came to drop off tips she was carrying. She has been walking around almost whole evening without them, her pussy bare, ready for me to take as soon as I feel like it.

She's soaking wet, hot silky heat wrapping around me. This won't take long, but it'll take the edge off, just something small to get us home. Don't want to get arrested for getting a blowjob while driving.

"Oh, God… Logan…" Don't know which one she's begging. Doesn't matter, either. Those heels of her are digging to my back. Those nails of hers are tearing in to my skin. It's my cock sinking in to that tight passage of hers.

* * *

"Keys… Where the fuck are the keys?" Jesus. How much stuff does she have in that purse of hers?

"Give me that…"

"Logan!"

"No keys… You forgot them?" Doesn't matter. I have a universal key, guaranteed to open any lock. Just a flick of my wrist and we stumble in. Finally I get to tear off her clothes. All of them. I want to see and feel all that bare skin underneath me. Taste the sweat. Feel her sliding over me, leave her scent on me.

"Bedroom… Logan, bedroom…" I do have some self-restraint. Only furniture sturdy enough is the bed. Have tried couch and kitchen table with bad results. Walls are too thin. Last time I fucked her in the bathroom neighbors complained about it for weeks.

"Oh, Christ… Marie… Stop. Honey, you have to stop…" She's sucking and licking and that tongue of hers… She's too talented… It fucking hurts already. She's keeping me hovering on the edge, can already feel it happening, almost coming, but just almost…

"Fuck… Get over here!" She tastes of us. And tries to clamp her knees together. Fucking teasing minx…

"Let me in…"

"You want to?"

"Uh-huh… Let me in now before I turn you over my knee and give you a good spanking…"


	14. Setting The Boundaries

"I'd appreciate if you kept your paws off from my wife."

Thank God. Logan's here. Usually he just have to walk to me and the crowd is parting, but this fucker is either stupid or from another town, and doesn't seem to know when would be a good time to retreat. Before Logan gets that cigar lit. Before he has the time to put away his lighter and move that cigar from his hand to the corner of his mouth.

"Your wife? This little slut's your wife?"

"Yeah. That little slut's my wife. And I lop off your hands if you don't let go of her right now."

Oh. This isn't good. Not that I would mind if Logan chopped this arrogant bastard to shreds right now and here, but we're supposed to lay low. No need to advertise our genes to rednecks surrounding us.

"I'm willing to forget this and let you walk out on your own if you let go of her now."

Please. Take the hint, asshole, and leave while you still can. We can't afford to loose our jobs. Not now. We're saving for a bigger apartment with a better view…

"No."

"No?"

And there goes the eyebrow. And not in a good way.

"Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Hand me your knife."

"Wha…"

"The one in your left boot. Give it to me…"

No. Nonono… Logan's smiling. He's practically purring, waiting for Jack to fish out the knife he's carrying. And the grade A idiot who grabbed me hasn't still let me go. I don't want to use my skin to drop him. I haven't used my skin to anybody except Logan in nearly hundred years; I have no idea what would happen if I tried to drain somebody else.

"Hands off, or hands off, bub."

That's not a knife. That's a freaking machete! How the hell Jack was able to walk with that stuffed in to his boot?

"Uh, Logan…"

"Don't worry, darling. I'll make sure that you don't get any splatters on that shirt."

Was that a wink? I think it was. And I can feel the hand that's clutching my wrist tremble a little.

"Last warning. I'm giving you one more chance, because it's a bitch to wash off the blood from silk. I bought that blouse for her for our anniversary last week."

"Fuck you! You can't do a shit! You can't…"

"I can't?"

Again that eyebrow. This fucker doesn't know with whom he's messing with, that's for sure. Crowd gathered around us knows. They're fallen eerily silent, waiting for the strike. Logan doesn't disappoint them. He twirls the machete in his hand once, almost playfully before he slices off one finger that's circling my wrist. Pinkie. It falls to the floor with a small plop.

* * *

"You alright?"

"Yeah… I think so…"

"Hey, Greg! Bring her something to drink!"

It never fails. Regulars already know to keep their hands to themselves, but every now and then a passer-by wanders in. Usually I manage to avoid those, leave them to other waitresses, but tonight I didn't have that luxury. Slow and quiet night, so I was the only one working on the floor. I knew he would be trouble when I first set my eyes on him. Big, stubborn truck driver, Looking for somebody to keep him warm over the night. Thank God he left as soon as he found his pinkie from the sawdust.

"My shift ends in an hour. Think you can keep it up until then?"

"But… I have four more hours before…"

"Bullshit. You're in no condition to work. You're coming with me. I clear it up with Greg."

"Okay… Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"Love you, too, kid."

* * *

Rest of the night I spend glued to Logan's side. He was right. I'm trembling all over. He keeps rubbing my arms and just holding me against his chest, surveying the crowd from the corner of his eye. It was a quiet night, but after that small display people are restless. 


	15. Memory Lane

"A mall?"

We have spent good part of a week getting here, both finally comfortable enough to visit. I don't know what we expected. Something. Anything. But a mall? Logan looks perplexed. Four years this place used to be our home. Proud mansion with sturdy stone walls, surrounded by impenetrable stone fence and ornate iron gates. And now?

"It's a fucking mall."

"I heard you from the first time. And I can see it myself."

"A mall."

"Yeah."

"A fucking mall."

"Logan? That gets a little repetitive after a while…"

"They built a fucking mall on their graves, Marie."

Scott, Jean, Ororo, probably professor himself, and only God knows how many of them died here, and each and every one of them was buried in the mansion's grounds. Now there's a giant mall and a parking lot. From the looks of it they have been here quite a while already.

"I need a drink."

"I think I saw a bar just down the road on our way here…"

"No. There's a pub in there, see?"

* * *

Smack dab in the middle of Ororo's rose garden. I have the strangest feeling, that if I were to peel off the concrete from beneath my feet, I would find fertile soil and blood red buds of roses. It's kind of creepy. To think that there in the corner, just where the jukebox stands, used to be a stone bench. That's where Logan proposed me all those years ago. Seven in the morning. I had my nightgown on, my hair was a tangled mess, and I don't want to even think about the possible morning breath. It was Sunday. Logan had marched in to my room, yanked me out of my bed and dragged outside without saying a word. When we got to the garden he plunked me sitting to that bench and kneeled in front of me. Not that traditional kneeling. He got on his both knees, plopped his head on my lap and wound his hands around my waist. He was exhausted, barely staying awake.

"Kid?"

"Yeah?"

"Marry me."

"Okay."

"Okay? You sure?"

"I'm sure." Not the most romantic proposal, and I nearly froze my butt off when he fell asleep on me. I didn't have the strength to move his carcass off from my lap, and I don't even want to think about what would have happened if Scott hadn't happened to return from his morning jog through the garden. Together we managed to wrestle Logan in to his own bed. I found the ring from his pocket when I undressed him and put it on. Later that day he came to see me and to make sure he hadn't dreamt of it, that it had actually happened. Then he had to go to see Xavier.

That name still makes my blood boil.

* * *

"There's a motel not too far from here. Want to spend a night, or do we keep going?"

Decisions, decisions… We have been driving around, visiting our old haunts. Only one place left. The place where this all started for me. My home. Or more accurately the place I was born and lived for the first fifteen years of my life. BM. Before Manifestation. Before Mutation. Before I became the life-sucking freak.

"I'm not sure…"

"There's still few hours sunlight left."

"I think I would like to sleep in a real bed for a change."

"Then motel it is."

As much as I love waking in a forest, birds chirping and sun shining through the open door flap of the tent, Logan sitting outside and smoking a cigar, my back is screaming for a softer mattress and a thick pillow under my head.

* * *

"I don't fucking believe this…"

"Better believe it, honey, because I see it, too. And I don't believe in group-hallucinations."

"Do you really need that real bed?"

"Not that bad…"

We sit on the bike for a moment, both staring at the neon-sign blinking above the motel. Logan's tense. He's practically trembling, gripping the handlebars tight enough to turn his knuckles white as bone. Nausea is making a nest to the pit of my stomach. Realistically thinking it can't be him. Must be some relative, maybe a grandchild?

Xavier's Inn For The Weary Travelers.


	16. Ten Past Six

She has started keeping diary. Don't know from where she managed to find a notebook and a pen, but there they are, stuffed in her backpack. Every night before we go to sleep she takes them out and spends couple of minutes, scribbling down things we have seen and things we have done. She won't let me see her writings. Not that I have even asked, it's her stuff, but she guards that book like it was more important than her own fucking life. Makes me wonder.

She claims it's just something to keep her occupied. Keep her occupied? On top of making me curious she has managed to make me jealous over a pile of paper and ink. Like those few minutes she spends hunched over that book are somehow away from me. Like I'm not enough to 'keep her occupied'. Luckily that green monster slouching on my shoulders is easy to get rid of. All Marie has to do is to put away that notebook and the pen, and give me a smile, and I'm feeling a world-class asshole for glaring at her hobby.

* * *

"Do you ever wonder…" Every day, honey. Every day.

"What would have happened if I hadn't gotten in to your trailer?" Nope. Haven't really thought about it. I have tried a few times. Ended up drooling under a table and got permanently banned to both of those bars.

"No. Why?"

"I have been thinking about it lately. I'm closer to hundred and fifty years old now. Wouldn't have lived this long if I hadn't met you." No. You would have probably died back there, somewhere close Laughlin. You were ready to keel over when I found you hiding from under that tarp.

"Do you regret it?" Don't. Don't regret. Say something.

"Can we just go to sleep? I'm… I'm kind of tired. It was a long day."

And with that said she rolls on her side. Nice. Does she really think she gets off the hook that easily?

"Marie."

"Yeah?"

"I asked you a question…"

"I will answer to it as soon as I figure out something to say. Can we please go to sleep now?"

"Yeah… I guess…"

Christ. Sleep? Well, I won't be sleeping before she answers to that fucking question. How the hell can I sleep? Shouldn't it be easy to answer? Simple yes or no. Of course I'm hoping the latter, but either one would do right now. Either one to strip off ice that's forming inside of me. Fuck. I feel sick.

* * *

Come on. Wake up already. It's six o'clock. Wake up. Wake up. We have an unfinished conversation going on. Remember? The one where I asked if you regret hitching a ride from me. I have had that conversation on my own for hundred times last night while you slept. Come on, Marie! Wake the fuck up! Please…? Wake up? Before I do something very unmanly. Like fucking wet myself out of fear. Wouldn't rule out bawling my eyes out, either, from all the not so nice and humiliating options. Wake up!

"Marie…" Jesus. Have to clear my throat. I'm croaking like a fucking crow.

"Marie?"

"Mmmhmngh?"

"Sorry. Did I wake you up?"

"Whatssthetime…"

"Ten past six."

"Were leaving early?"

"Nope." Remember. Fucking remember. I don't want to have to remind you.

"Is this about last night?" Well, what the fuck do you think?

"You haven't slept at all." Nope. Kind of hard to roll over and sleep when all I wanted to do was to rattle you awake and demand an answer.

"Logan… I don't know. That's an honest answer. I don't know."

"You don't know?" How the fuck you can't know?

"I… There's a reason why I have started writing that diary." Uh-huh?

"I have started to forget things. At first it was just small things. Things that had happened few days ago. Then I noticed one day, that I couldn't remember the color of the cloak I had on when I saw you for the first time. I still remember climbing in to your trailer, and how cold it was. I remember how angry you were when you found me, then there's this big, black hole, and next thing I remember I'm trapped in that machine and you're standing in front of me and…"

"Green."

"What?"

"Your cloak. It was green. Dark forest green. You had dark-brown leather gloves and you kept taking them off and putting them back on again. You wore blue jeans. Dark blue. And brown boots. Worn down, they had nearly white patches on toes and heels. You had showered last time about a week ago, eaten three days ago, and last trucker, the one who left you in Laughlin had offered to take you even further, but you thought there was something wrong with him so you decided to try your luck with somebody else."

"Logan…"

"Marie, I remember. You can take that stuff from me. You don't need a book to keep those memories safe."

We haven't touched for nearly five years now. Not in that special way. She doesn't need it anymore. She has gotten so many hits from my mutation, that it's lodged to her genetic structure for good. But if that's what it takes to keep her sane and her memories safe, hell she can drain me every fucking day!

* * *

"Do you regret?" So fucking dizzy… Can't keep my eyes open… Had already forgotten what it was like… She really packs a punch…

"Do you regret?" Answer me goddamned! … Can't stay conscious much… Longer…

"No."


	17. Temporarily And Forever

"Promise not to hit me if I let you go?" Because if you don't stop struggling you'll fucking hurt yourself.

"Marie! Can I let you go?" Fuck this. I don't hit women. Scratch that, there was that blue bitch. Didn't mind smacking her around. I don't hit Marie. Not without a good reason.

"Marie! Look at me!" There. She's almost here. Almost. Won't take much to bring her over.

"Look at me. I will fucking slap you black and blue if you don't stop kicking and screaming at this instant. Understood?" Don't turn that head… Look in to my eyes!

"Is that understood?" Fuck. Fuckety-fuck. Don't usually mind wrapping her hair around my fist, but this is different. Don't usually have to do it to stop her from biting me.

"Marie!" Oww… For fuck's sake… She sure knows what to do with her knees… Holy shit…

"Kid. I will knock you out now. When you wake up, I will be here."

* * *

Downside of living two hundred and plus years. Temporary insanity. Has happened to me exactly twice. Once before I met Marie, second time she was luckily at work. Had the time to calm down and clean up the mess before she got home.

I have been actually expecting this. When she will crack up. I saw the signs. Nervousness. Paranoia. Small twitches. Mood swings. Yeah. Could be describing myself there. Hell, I never even tried to claim that I was sane!

I'm no shrink, but I think it happens because at that moment you realize how fucking alone in this world you are. How detached from the reality you are. How little you have in common with people you see every day. They have their friends and families. Relatives. Whole lifelines expanding all around them, and all you have is your own line. And when you turn your head and look at it… It's so fucking thin and frail, knotted and frayed, and alone. Just one line. No other lines connecting with it.

Sure. We have each other. Would have gone nuts, crawled under a biggest rock I could find and died without her in my life for well over hundred years ago. And I think it's the same for her. But in the long run, it's not enough. We're not built to stand on our own. We need family around us. New generations. All we have had was borrowed, and it got taken away far too early.

We have had exactly one child of our own. One. We got through two months before she had miscarriage. After that nothing. And like I said to that doc before we had Anna, it can't be because we're out of practice.

Fuck. Shouldn't think about these things at this hour. Shouldn't even be awake, sitting out here. I should go back inside and curl my carcass around her, because when she wakes up, she will be absolutely horrified and alone. I was both times it happened. Both figuratively and literally.

* * *

"Logan!"

"I'm here, kid. I'm right here."

Hands and legs around her. It's probably not enough, but there's only one way I could get closer to her, more in contact, and I'm not sure if she wants that right now.

"What happened?"

"Just relax. I'm here. I'm going to take care of you."

She's burrowing against me, as close as possible. No screaming. No kicking. Just a scared and confused woman. She'll remember soon what happened. Maybe she remembers already. Her skin feels cold and clammy, and she's trembling all over.

"I hit you."

"Doesn't matter."

"I tried…"

"Marie, it doesn't matter."

"I fucking tried to kill you!"

"Hush. Don't worry. Everything's okay now."

Yup. She remembers. Nearly broke my eardrums with that scream.

"Let go of me! Let go!"

"Hss… Calm down. I've got you."

"Get away from me before I hurt you again!"

"You won't hurt me. You didn't hurt me."

Well, maybe a little when you kneed me, but I heal. It takes a lot more to really hurt me, and even when she was trashing and screaming, trying to tear my throat open, it looked like she was holding back.

"Hush. Just calm down, honey."

"Why? Why did I do something like that?"

"Don't know. Don't care. Just calm down now. I'm here. I won't go anywhere. I'm here for you."

I'm here for you. I will be here for you. There's no way in hell I could leave you ever.


	18. Immortal

"Logan! Wait!"

"What?"

"There's still one left. Let me put some stitches on it…"

"Just leave it. They pay for the blood, not sutures…"

* * *

Last ten years we have been traveling with a group of fighters. Some of them mutants, some humans. During those years crowds have gotten more eager for blood. The more of it gets spilled, the more they are willing to pay. We have been planning to skip the boat before going gets too rough. In my opinion it got that way well over a year ago. That's when Logan made me quit fighting.

* * *

"Oh, God…"

"Don't worry about it… I'll heal…"

"You're bleeding all over the place!"

"Stop fussing… Oh, fuck! Stop fucking poking me!"

"I have to! You don't heal fast enough! You'll bleed to death or something!"

"Leave my liver alone! It's already shot to hell! Just… Oh, shit… Give me that!"

* * *

He's gotten quite skilled at stitching. We both have. We had no other options. When they started allowing machines in the arena… Even Logan's healing can't keep up when he goes few rounds against a harvester.

* * *

"There."

"Careful. Don't get up yet… Logan, sit down! You'll tear it open again!"

"Don't have time… Mac's still in there…"

"You're not going back in! Logan!"

"I have to. Mac doesn't heal… That fucking thing will tear him to pieces…"

"Logan!"

* * *

That thing. Don't know where they have found it. I don't know how they got it running again. It doesn't matter. I screamed when they wheeled it in. And Logan was grinning like a fucking maniac. A sentinel. A fucking sentinel.

* * *

"Got there in time. It had gotten Mac cornered."

"Uh-huh…"

"I got him out of the way just in time."

"Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't give a flying fuck about Mac. I don't give a shit about this fucking freak show. I don't give a damn if we have to live in some ditch and eat roasted roaches. What I do care is you. You could have died today. I may be a selfish bastard, but do you have any idea what that would have done to me?"

"Marie… Kid…"

"Don't you dare to apologize. Don't you dare to say you're sorry. I saw you. You're not sorry. You were loving every fucking moment of it!"

"I…"

"You have no intentions to quit this."

"Uh… No. But Marie…"

"Fuck you! You said we would quit before one of us got hurt! One of us! That includes you, too! That fucking machine nearly gutted you like a fucking fish today! You do realize you're not immortal? Or are you just so fucked up that you enjoy the pain?"

"So what if I am! What if I am fucked up? Huh? Shouldn't be a surprise to you! I went back there today, because Mac was in trouble! Mac! The guy that has saved both of our hides about thousand times already! I wasn't going to stand by and watch when a fucking sentinel finished him off!"

* * *

We rarely fight. When we do, it's usually about this. About how Logan seems to think that his life doesn't matter. That he doesn't matter. That his death wouldn't make any difference. Like it would be okay and perfectly acceptable to die, if he just has a good reason for it.

* * *

"Fuck this. I need a drink."

"Don't even think about walking out that door!"

Uh-oh… Forgot how quick he is… Kind of hard to breathe when you're dangling up on the wall, Logan's fingers wrapped around your throat.

"You were saying…?" Eyebrow. He just gave me the eyebrow.

"Logan… You're strangling me…"

"Doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, Marie. Do you know why? Let me tell you a secret…" In an other situation this might be sexy as hell, his thick and strong thigh lodged between mine, hard body pressing against me and his breath caressing the side of my throat. I can feel his lips move against my earlobe when he whispers.

"We can't fucking die…"

We can't. Not as easily as others. And I have never been as grateful for that than I am now, still against the wall, Logan forcing his way in, pinning me to the place like a butterfly through my shoulders with his claws.

* * *

We can't die. 


	19. Deja Vu Backwards

There are some things you just can't escape, no matter how fast and how far you run.

* * *

Last fifty years or so we have lived practically isolated from the world. There are some things we need. Some things that we can't make ourselves, and every now and then we have to go to the settlement to buy them. Not often, maybe couple of times a year. She hates those trips. So do I. But they're necessary. It's not just the stuff we buy. It's the people. Other living beings. We both need them. As much as I hate to admit it, it's the fucking truth.

People. Can't live with them, can't live without them.

For the past ten years we have been scouting our surroundings. By bike when we still had gasoline. I have been meaning to turn my bike solar powered. Haven't gotten round to do that yet. We have time. All the time in the world. Now my bike, maybe only one of its kind, waits in the far corner of our woodshed, covered with a tarp. We have a truck instead. Ugly, clumsy truck. It was ugly already when I bought it. We tinkered a bit with it, and it turned more ugly, but now we can drive it on almost any kind of terrain, and it's armed.

I remember watching a movie once, must have been nearly four hundred years ago. I watched it with Marie, and we were both laughing our asses off. We thought it was the most hilarious thing we had ever seen. Futuristic world after nuclear war, lone, futuristic hero wandering around, basically just looking for gas for his wheels. I think it was called Mad Max. The movie. And that hero. We laughed back then. Well, we are not laughing anymore.

There wasn't a war. It didn't happen suddenly. Everything just started winding down. Slowly at first. Very slowly. It had been going that way for quite a while already. Winding down. First one to go was oil. Then electricity. Shortly after that society. After that everything else.

For the past fifty years we have been winding down. Winding down from everything that happened before. I have been mostly sleeping and taking long walks. Marie… She has been writing. When I first built this cabin, we had two rooms. Bedroom and a kitchen. Now we have three. Bedroom, kitchen and Marie's room.

Marie's room. It's filled with stacks of notebooks and bottles of ink. She learned how to make paper and ink when real paper and pencils became impossible to find. There's a desk and a chair I made for her. She learned how to make candles, and I just wait for the day when she accidentally torches that place. Luckily that hasn't happened yet. Our whole life is on those pages. Four hundred good and bad years, written down with her neat and punctual handwriting. She has even written down my past. The only dark spot in my memory. Somehow she managed to squirm past the blocks that prevent me from remembering what happened all those centuries ago, in that lab from where I got the metal on to my bones, and what happened before that. She hasn't showed those pages to me. I don't mind. When I asked her about it once, she got awfully quiet and jittery, then told me she would burn them if I asked ever again. Maybe it really is better that I don't know.

* * *

"Marie, time to go!" It never fails. No matter how long you live, women always take their precious time for primping and preening before they can show their face in public… Well, I know that in this case it's not about insecurity or wanting to look good. She's stalling. She's stalling because fights are in the settlement tonight, and she knows that I know that, too.

"Marie! If you don't haul your pretty ass over here soon, you'll be walking…" Uh… Christ.

"Could you really do that? Could you really be that mean?" Umm… Uh…

"Honey, shut your mouth. You're drooling." And whose fault is that?

Maybe things have cooled between us a bit. I love her. I think she loves me. Has to. Don't think she would have put up with me this long if she didn't. But it's not that all consuming, fiery, eating-your-heart-out feeling anymore. I don't roll over and die if she spends some time on her own, week or two just wandering around. She stopped nagging about my small trips about hundred years ago. We don't get the urge to jump on each other hourly, daily, or even weekly. Doesn't matter. I'm quite happy and satisfied. And I'm sure I would have noticed if she had something to complain about.

But now…

"Have you gone nuts?"

"What do you mean?" Oh, that sweet and innocent routine won't work anymore. I fucking know you inside out, darling.

"I'm supposed to keep my eyes on the road, not ogle you." Stop fucking pretending. That 'confused as hell' face won't win any prizes.

"Logan?" Don't you 'Logan' me…

"You did that on purpose? I promised that I wouldn't go to the arena already."

"Did what?" You know what I'm talking about.

She hasn't looked as radiant and alive in years. Now, don't get me wrong. She's beautiful. She's my fucking wife, and I could spend all day just watching her when she tinkers around, washing laundry, chopping wood or just sleeps in the sun, but…

"I just brushed my hair and put on some clothes… You said you were in a hurry so I didn't have the time to…" She doesn't have any make-up on. Just that pale skin, cheeks little flushed, those huge eyes searching mine. She has put on jeans, and loose, long-sleeved shirt. She has even gloves on, because lately it has been safer for her to move around with her mutation on because all of the freaks wandering around.

"Turn your skin off." Do it now. Come here.

"Logan… What… We're going to be late already, you said we'd have to hurry…" There's no better way to shut her up. Those lips of hers, they're meant for far greater things than talking. I don't get to kiss her nearly enough. We do not spend enough time with each other anymore.

"We can go tomorrow. I have a better idea how we could spend today…" I think she's getting on board with that plan of mine, if those moans are anything to go by.

* * *

There are some things you can't escape.

From the moment I saw her in that sleazy bar in Laughlin I had a thing for her. And mind out of the gutter. Now. I mean that.

She was just a kid back then, but somehow… There was some kind of connection. I could practically hear and feel something clicking in the back of my skull when I met her eyes across that counter we were leaning on. It was like some sort of deja vu, only backwards. I don't believe in that destiny and faith –crap, but I felt like I would know her in the future. That I would be spending some time with her. That was maybe the only reason I took off without skewering the guy that tried to poke me with that fruity knife of his. Wanted to remember that feeling of knowing her instead of feeling of that bastard's blood flowing over my knuckles.

* * *

We have had our ups and downs, but as long as I'm with her… They don't matter. As long as she keeps smiling and lets me close to her, they don't matter. 


	20. Shirley

"Hi, honey, I'm home." And damn it is good to be here. Eighteen hours straight in that fucking tunnel…

"How have you been?" It's nice to have somebody to come home to.

"Hungry?" I bet you are. I'm fucking starving. Yeah. She's practically purring already. Shower, food, and some quality time in front of TV with her. Would be nice. Very nice. Shit, can still feel the vibrations in my bones…

"Coming to shower with me?" Nope. That would be the day. No. She just checked the place up.

"Good enough for me?" Looks like it. Have to get these clothes off… Fucking sleeves are stiff from concrete and shit… Fuck it. I'll just cut them off.

"Hey!" Yeah. I know my claws make you hot, darling, but keep your distance. Don't want to nick you.

* * *

Earth became unsuitable environment about twenty years ago. We hitched a ride to the first possible craft, ended up to moon first. Spend couple of years there. We decided to move on, and these last years we have lived on Mars. Not a bad place. I worked first as a miner, then got a better deal from a firm that constructs railroads between Stations. Marie's doing again what she does best. She's a librarian.

Speaking of which, shouldn't she be home already?

"Where's your mommy? Hasn't she been home yet?" And do I have a hairy child or what? Here, kitty-kitty-kitty… Nope. Can't smell Marie on her. Where the hell is she? And what the fuck is that beeping noise? It's been going on forever… Oh. My beeper. Hey, it's Marie!

"Hi honey. Where are you?"

"In a train. There was a delay. Some tunnel had collapsed and I have been waiting in Main Station for six hours. Are you home already?"

"Yeah. Got a bit worried when you weren't here…"

"Sorry. I wasn't sure if you had gotten off work already, I would have called sooner if…"

"Don't worry about it. I just came in. Shirley's keeping me company. I'm probably sleeping when you get here."

"Okay. I won't wake you."

"Wake me up. I missed you."

"Well, I'll see you in couple of hours."

"See you."

* * *

Collapse. Fucking nice. If I'm lucky, I have the time to kiss her for goodbye when she comes home before I have to go. My team's on-call this month. Fucking great… Wonder which one it is. Hmph. Better stop wondering and start eating. Won't have time to do that later. And there goes the beeper again…

"Yeah?"

"Logan?"

"I heard already. Where do you need me?" And when?

"Xavier's Pass. I know you have been busting your ass at that new line. I have some guys there already, sleep few hours. I'll call if I need you there."

"Okay… Gary, thanks. I'd come now if…"

"You're not a machine, Logan. Won't do any good for me to drive my best man to early grave. Go to sleep."

"I'll do that. See you later, Gary."

* * *

Xavier's Pass. Of all the places… Gives me the creeps. We lost more men drilling that tunnel that we usually loose in three or four normal tunnels. Falling rocks, gas pockets, loose sand… That fucking place is a death trap. Couldn't go in with the automated drill, we had to do it the old-fashioned way, with power drills. Took six fucking months to go through that hell. We, Marie and me, weren't sleeping much during that month. I was too wound up, and Marie was absolutely terrified. She'll go berserk when she hears that I'm going back there…

"Come on, Shirley. Daddy needs a good cuddle…" There's something seriously fucked up with this cat. Whenever somebody picks it up, it goes boneless. Just a loose puddle of brown and white fur. It's something in its genetic structure. I think Marie called it a rag doll once.


	21. Nomen Est Omen

"Logan! Logan! It's your wife!"

"Okay! I'll take a short break, you take the drill!"

* * *

Nomen Est Omen. Don't know from where I have heard those words, but ever since I started my shift they have been buzzing around in my skull. Nomen Est Omen. I think it's Latin. Don't have a slightest clue why I would know a language that died probably well before I was born, but I know exactly what those words mean, and I don't fucking like it. Not a bit.

* * *

"Hi honey. You wanted to talk?" I hate these fucking pieces of shit… Reception is crappy because of magnetic ore on the soil around here, and I can barely hear her voice.

"Where… you?" Where am I?

"Gary had already enough men to clean up that collapse. I'm at the new tunnel." Not a complete lie. I am drilling a new tunnel. Past that collapsed part, because rubble in there was too shaky, we couldn't go in.

"When are… home?"

"Don't know, darling. Later today. Gary said he'd give me couple days off." Actually, he didn't. I have few days from my last vacation left, and I told him I'd take them now.

"That sounds great! … can… What do you think?" Uhh…

"I don't know. But I have to go now. Love you, kid."

"… Love you… Logan? Be careful."

"I always am…"

* * *

Even more so now. Fucking Xavier. Had I known there actually was a place named after him in Mars, would have chosen Phobos or Deimos. Well, too late to scream when the damage is done. And I know it's named after Xavier. Our Xavier. Didn't know back then that he was interested in Mars study, but from what I heard he paid quite a hefty sum for all those little droids they send scouting this pile of rock when everybody still believed we would do just fine back in Earth. When we still lived at the Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters. When Marie was studying algebra and equations and I was killing people.

"Everything okay back home?"

"Just fine! She just wanted to know when I'd be heading home!" Jeff's a good guy. Family man. Two wives, seven kids. Yeah. Polygamy is legal in here. Not interested. Neither is Marie. I guess we're too old-fashioned. Or just too old. I don't think there would be enough me for two or more wives. Thank God Marie's not that keen on having another husband. I don't know if I could keep my claws off from a guy that I knew was fucking with her on regular basis… Oww, shit! My fucking hand!

"You should be more careful!"

"No shit, Sherlock? Oh, fuck! Don't touch me!" Because my hand should be broken. Crushed. Mangled for good. And it's not. Jeff knows. He knows that Marie and me are mutants. He hasn't made a big deal about it, but that doesn't mean that he likes about it. Gives him the creeps every time he sees me healing. Fucking boulder. Fucking drill. Fucking Xavier.

"I fucking hate Charles-Fucking-Xavier!"

"Calm down, Logan! Maybe you should go home now! I'll tell Gary that there was some emergency at home and you had to leave!" I'm not gay. Definitely not. But right now I'm seriously tempted to kiss the living daylights out of Jeff.

"Thanks! I'll make it up to you some day!"

* * *

Fuck. It's still bleeding. Not bad, at least bones and claws are back where they should be, under skin and muscle. It'll heal up nicely before I get home.

Home. With Marie. Two and a half days with her. Well, with Shirley actually. Marie's working. But hey, maybe she could call in sick… It's not like we're short on money. Not with hours I'm putting in. She could stop working altogether if she wanted. But it isn't for the money she's after. It's the company. She has made quite some friends out there. Who almost all for some reason hate or fear me. It never fails. No matter what I do, Marie's probably the first, and only person that hasn't been genuinely afraid of me ever. Even Jeff, our nice family man Jeff, father of seven and husband of two, is afraid of me most of the times. Haven't done a thing to him. Haven't even planned to. I guess I'm just not people-person…


	22. Xavier's Pass

"Where is he?"

"Uh… Mrs. D'Ancanto…" Jerk.

"It's Marie, Gary. And I would like to know where my husband is. He told me he was working in the new tunnel. Want to know something funny? When I went there, they said that they haven't seen him in three weeks. Told me to come and see you." I'll fucking kill him. Both of them. As slowly as possible.

"Marie… It's a little complicated…"

"Terraformers on the surface have some complicated situations to solve. You… Your only problem right now is to find a way to convince me not to rip out your lungs and dismember Logan. He promised, you both promised to me, that he wouldn't go back there!" Three weeks. Three fucking weeks! In Xavier's Pass! Sixteen hours a day, I hardly ever see him, and when I see him, he's tired, torn up and beaten.

"I was going to reassign him to the new site, but after Jeff died, Logan insisted coming in here. I tried to talk him out of it. I don't even know what's the deal between you two and this place, but…"

"What's between us and the Xavier's Pass stays between us. But remember, if anything happens to Logan down there, I'm holding you responsible…" Bastard has the good sense to pale a bit.

"I tried to talk him out of it, I tried. He wouldn't listen. Told me he owed it to Jeff." Explanations. He sure is full of those now, but what about when he has to come to me and tell me that Logan has been crushed under twenty tons of sand and loose rocks? I have seen his clothes. There hasn't been a day he wouldn't have come home with blood on him.

"If it's any consolation, this part of the tunnel has gone quite smoothly. We'll break through some time during this afternoon, and from thereon it's just some finishing touches. Coating surfaces, hauling out rest of the debris…"

"Show me." I know they have surveillance cameras down there. Recording every move, just in case something goes wrong, so that they can later review the situation and determine what happened and why.

* * *

No automated drill, just five men in front of sheer rock wall, one of them wearing a harness, carrying the heavy power drill, pushing his way through the wall. Two men hosing the drill and the rock with cold water. Two men just standing and waiting to replace any of the three in case some of them tire out.

"Logan? Take a break. I need to speak with you," Gary speaks to the inter-com. One of the men, the one carrying the drill taps his helmet, and then I can hear his voice from the speakers.

"I'll be up there in a few minutes."

Gary's leaving the connection open. Logan's camera is following him through the corridors. He looks tired and annoyed, fiddling with his harness and kicking small loose pebbles on his way.

"I hope this doesn't take long. Guys are worn out. It was my turn. I just took the damn drill…"

"Come on, Logan. You already pull triple shifts. Don't hog that damn machine all the time. Let John have some fun, too," Gary tries to laugh, his eyes shifting between the screen and me. Logan adjusts the harness and turns off the light mounted on its shoulder piece. I know he would like to tear off the damn thing, forget the drill and force his way through with his bare hands, but he can't do that. Even here we can't reveal who we are. What we are.

"Cut the connection, Gary. Don't want to break your little spy when I get in to the elevator…" Cameras are small round orbs floating in the air, using magnetic fields. Logan has complained about them several times. If the guy operating them isn't sharp enough, eventually they end up lying in a broken heap on the floor, because worker they have been following has stepped to an isolated zone. And that worker must return to surface immediately to fetch a new camera.

* * *

"Fine. Now that he can't hear us anymore… What do you want me to do?" Gary turns to me again. I would like to tell him to move Logan to some other site, but I guess that's out of the question now that Logan's determined to pay some kind of debt, real or imaginary, to Jeff.

"Go to lunch. I need to speak with him."

"Okay. Just… These equipments are very expensive. Try not to break them in the middle of your 'conversation'."

* * *

"What did you wanted to talk about… What the fuck are you doing here?" Nice to see you, too, honey…

"I think it's time for us to have a little chat." And stop with that fucking eyebrow. I know you have several other facial expressions.

"A chat? Kid… Marie. I have to go back to work. Can't this wait until I get back home?" So that you can crawl in to bed and sleep while I'm having that conversation alone? Think again, mister.

"No. This can't wait. You fucking lied to me."

"I didn't. I'm not clearing that collapse. I'm drilling a new tunnel." Fuck you. You can't squirm your way out of this.

"In here. At Xavier's Pass. Why?"

"I'm the best there is. And Gary needs me here. And I owe it to Jeff and his family."

"You owe shit to some hypocrite jerk…"

"I was supposed to be working that day! I was supposed to be with him down there! We both would have gotten out of there just fine if…"

"I'm so fucking full of this shit! Since when did you got so fucking noble? Since when did you thought it would be alright to abandon me?"

"Abandon you? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Do you really think I could go on alone if you died? Alone! Century after another one, always alone!" I'm not going to cry. Not now. It would ruin everything. I'm more than a fucking teary-eyed little girl screaming for attention. I'm not going to cry.

"Maybe you would have been better off if you never met me…"

* * *

"Mrs. D'Ancanto! Mrs. D'Ancanto! Shit… Marie!" Let go of me! Let go of me before I hurt you! I have to go after him! Let go of me!

"Marie! You can't go down there. It's too dangerous."

"And you let him go back there? When he already survived it once, you're pushing him back in to that hell?" Fuck you Gary, drop dead!

"He asked it. I tried to stop him, but he told me he'd quit working for me if I didn't let him do it. I can't afford to let him go."

"I'm sorry about this, Gary." No, I'm not. His head makes a nice sound when it smacks against the wall. Key card? Where is it, where is it?

* * *

"Marie! What the hell are you doing down here? Did Gary let you in? I'll fucking maim him for this!"

"Leave Gary out of this. This is about us! About you and me!"

"What the fuck do you want from me? I can't just turn my back…"

"Yes! You can!"

"Oh, for Christ's sakes… Jack! Take the hose! And you… You're coming with me…" Owowowoww… I had forgotten how strong he is. He's always so gentle with me, but now his grip is practically crushing my arm. Back to the elevator? If you think you're getting rid of me by just tossing me out…

"Stop that. Don't want to knock you out." Really? Doesn't look that way from where I'm standing. Or not standing. More like running so my hand won't get yanked out of its socket.

"You're hurting me!"

"Good. Maybe you'll listen more carefully what I have to say…" Uh… This is starting to bring up some bad memories. I don't like that blank look on his face.

"Logan… Let me go."

"No." One elevator coming up.

"Inside." Hey! No need to push me! These walls are kind of hard and… What the hell are you doing? What the fuck… That's a kiss. Sweat, exhaustion, dust, Logan.

"Logan? What are you…"

"Shut up, darling. Just shut up." Uh-oh… Haven't seen that look on his face ever before. Eyes all dark. Deep enough to drown me. No smile. No grimace. Just unreadable, blank face, covered to black and grey smudges. Hair stiff and grey from the dust. Clothes underneath the harness plastered against him like a second skin. Skin made out of blood, sweat and concrete. Something hard is digging against my stomach when he leans closer.

"Sorry… Have to get this fucking piece of shit off…" He fumbles a while with the straps before he manages to open them, and the harness falls to the floor. And again he's kissing me, his tongue laving against mine. His stubble is kind of scratchy, but I'm not about to complain. We haven't kissed in months. Not like this. Hell, we haven't kissed like this in centuries. Logan's practically eating me alive.

"I won't leave you. I won't let him win. But this is something I have to do. For Jeff. And for us," he whispers, leaning his forehead against mine.

"As long as I keep shivering and shying away from his name, Xavier has won. It may very well be a fucked up way to think, but…" I just have to kiss him. His hair feels gritty in my hands when I comb my fingers through it. Like sanding paper. Small sheets of plaster fall from his clothes when we move and they're crunching under the heels of our shoes, covering the floor of the elevator to brownish dust.

Soft ping pulls us a part. Door slides open. Gary's standing there, and he's looking quite pissed off.

"I don't give a damn about how important that fucking conversation was, but…"

"Gary, watch your tone. That's my wife you're speaking to." Logan puts his hands on my shoulders and pulls my back against him.

"I'll come home as soon as this shift is over. Our conversation isn't over yet…" He whispers, lips just inches from my earlobe. I can feel him turning his head, to look at Gary, before he turns his attention back to me again.

"We traded some harsh words down there. I think we should make it up before we go to sleep…" I haven't blushed in years. I thought nothing he does could make me blush anymore, but when I feel his tongue trailing the side of my throat while his hands pull me more firmly against him, right under Gary's eyes… I'm suddenly so fucking hot. Mostly from arousal, but there's some embarrassment, too. We haven't made out in public for decades.

"I'll be waiting for you, honey…"


	23. Xavier's Pass 2

She fucking knows better than this. Not to tease me when I'm this wound up. She knows it. Yet she goes and pulls a stunt like this. I'll fucking wring her neck. As soon as I have fucked her to next week, that is. She won't know what hit her. She won't be able to walk straight after I'm through with her. She won't be able to do much else than beg for more. Out of the way, Shirley. Daddy's going to get your mommy back home…

* * *

I have to say that the last shift was absolute torture. I could still taste her on my lips, feel those small hands against my scalp and chest. At the end of it guys kept telling me to loose the drill, because I sure as hell wasn't going to need it, my own drill would have probably been enough. At first I was laughing with them, but after first couple of hours that joke got pretty old, and on top of it Gary kept pestering me, threatening with the union and all kinds of hells for letting Marie in the tunnel. Letting her? I wasn't the one upstairs with the key card!

So… One could say I was a bit ticked off when I got home. And horny as hell. Waiting for making up with Marie. Place was quiet. She had been in earlier, but she had left few hours ago, scent was getting cold already. There was a note on the fridge door. 'Come and get me.' Come and get me?

Out of all the possible places in this Station she had to choose the sleaziest shithole she could find. This place doesn't even have a name. Basically just a cavern drilled to bedrock, filled to the brim with drunken miners and constructors. And pool tables. Is there some kind of fucking law about those? That every place serving alcohol must have at least two of them tucked away to a dim corner?

"Give me a beer." No use to ask certain label. There's only one kind of beer in this place. I should know. Have spent absofuckinglutely too many hours in here during past years. Beer tastes like piss, women are ugly and worn down, but people know me, and keep their distance. My kind of place. My kind of crowd. I wonder how Marie knew about this place. Haven't exactly advertised this to her. Speaking about which… I tracked her here, but I can't see her anywhere. Where the fuck is she?

"Looking for something?"

"What if I am?" That's none of your fucking business. Just keep that beer coming.

"You might find what you're looking for from the lower level." Lower level?

"What?"

"There's an entrance at the back, behind the pool tables." Huh? This is getting weird.

"Just take your beer and go." O-kay…

* * *

Holy shit. Wasn't really expecting to see something like this again. I thought I left this back couple of hundreds years ago. A cage. A fucking cage. And bunch of rednecks cheering and whistling, gathered as close to the metal mesh as possible, not to loose a second of what's going on inside.

"And the winner is again the unbeatable Mutilator! For all my years haven't seen anything like this… Are you going to let him walk out with your money? And this poor girl?" Poor girl?

* * *

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Logan! You found me!" Yeah. I found you. Now would be a good time for me to walk out and let her take her medicine. Has she gone fucking insane?

"What kind of game are you playing? Because this shit isn't funny." Wipe that smile out of your face, darling, before I do that for you.

"Not a game. Seriously, I was just going to lure you out so that we could have some fun. Then some asshole grabbed me and dragged me down here. Apparently they think I would make a nice trophy for the winner." Wonder why… Those stamps she's wearing are covering her nipples, and that skirt is almost long enough to cover her panties. Don't even get me started about those 'come-fuck-me –boots you're wearing, darling. These morons should be deaf and blind not to want to have a go with you. Doesn't give them an excuse to kidnap and grope you, but there you have a reason for it…

"And you're expecting me to climb in the ring and go against a guy that calls himself a Mutilator?" Have you lost your fucking mind? I'm not suicidal. At least not today.

"I'm supposed to go with the winner…" Fuck this. Couldn't hurt to go few rounds. Might be fun.

"Wait here. I'll be back as soon as I finish off that oaf…"

* * *

Fun? I do have mental problems, but I hadn't realized they were this bad.

"Careful, darling…" Oh, fuck. It hurts just to breathe. Mutilator, my ass. The guy was a fucking cyborg!

"Just few more steps, we're almost at home…"

"Marie? Do me a favor… Next time you feel like going out without me, don't…" I won him, fair and square. Got beaten up pretty badly, but most of the damage I took afterwards when all those yahoos wanted to have a go with me. Had to beat up five of them before they realized that Wolverine was just as bad as the Mutilator.

"I won't. Here we are. Think you could stand on your own for a sec?" Let me see…

"Almost…" Sliding down. Nice and easy, against the wall… I'm a fucking mess. Drunken, horny and beaten up mess.

"Come on, get up. Get up, honey." Do I have to?

"I'm too old…"

"We're both too old. But get up anyway. Let's get you in to bed…"

"Shower first."

"You can't even stand on your own!"

"First shower. Then bed." I can still smell the filth of that place on me.

"Fine."

* * *

"Lean against that wall." Gladly. I'm too heavy for her to carry anyway.

"Oh… Fuck…"

"Sorry. I try to be more careful." Don't. Doesn't matter where you touch. I'm bruised all over. Just touch. Let those hands glide over… Oh…

"Logan?"

"Yeah…" Closing my eyes. She doesn't use the sponge on me. Ever. She knows how much I like to feel her skin against mine.

"I'm going to give you your prize now…" What prize… What's that? What is she… Oh, Christ! This is going to be good… Her soapy hand sliding up and down on my shaft…

"I won't last long, darling…"

"It's okay. This is for you."

"Just… If you want something… Thought you should know…" Because it really won't take long now. I can already feel the pressure building up…

"I'm fine. I can wait until you feel better…" Oh, shit! Have to take a hold from something, can't touch her now… Feels too good….

"Marie…"

"Yeah?"

"Just finish it… I can't… This is too much…"

"Just calm down… I want to taste you." Uh… Go ahead. Be my guest. Can't really complain now. Not when she's kneeling down and sucking me in. Jesus…

"Honey… Marie…" She's licking and sucking me like a fucking lollypop.

"Just relax." I will. I have no other choice. Not when she's twirling that warm tongue over my balls. When one small hand is rubbing small circles over my stomach. I will be fucking boneless soon. She smells so good. Fuck it. I want to fuck her. Now.

"Turn around…" On your hands and knees, darling. Can't do you up against the wall now. Have to save that for later.

"Are you sure… Oh… Logan…" Trust me. I'm sure. You're so fucking slick and wet already. Have been waiting for this all day. Just nice and easy now…


	24. Xavier's Pass 3

They were all cheering and jumping up and down like a bunch of freaking schoolgirls when we finally got through the wall. Other end of Xavier's Pass was stretching in front of us, dark, round cavern. I was relieved, too, but there was this nagging feeling at the back of my neck. At six o'clock next morning, still tired to the bone, that nagging feeling woke me up. Ten past six my beeper went off.

"Don't answer… Take a day off…"

"Would love to, darling. Maybe make up some past arguments…" Dear God. All she has to do is to stretch her legs under the covers and I'm good to go.

"But I can't. And you know that, fucking vixen…" Stop laughing. Not fair to grope defenseless man when he's getting up from the bed. Not fair.

* * *

"Yeah?"

"Logan?"

"It's me. What is it this time?" Gary. Don't like the sound of his voice. Don't like it a bit.

"Xavier's Pass. It collapsed again."

"You're shitting me." Nope. There are many things Gary could joke about, but work isn't one of those.

"New tunnel is okay, but the older part… It's shot to hell. Whole fucking mountain fell down just couple of hours ago."

"And you're calling to me because…"

"You're holding some sort of grudge towards that place. Thought I should let you know first. Company decided to give up the contract. It's over. Xavier's Pass won't chew up our men anymore." Just like that, Xavier's slinking back. Back in to the shadows to wait.

"Thanks, Gary. So, I'll see you on Monday at the new site?"

"Nope. They're transferring me to Phobos. There's a new foreman. He should arrive at Tuesday. I got his name on somewhere… Now where did I put those papers…" same old Gary. He would lose his head if it weren't screwed to his shoulders.

"Gary? You still there?" I know he is. Papers rustling, can hear him breathing at the other end of the line.

"Here it is. This is some weird shit, you know…"

"What do you mean?"

"The name of the new guy. His last name's Xavier. How about that!" Oh…

"Logan?" Fucking…

"Logan? You still there?" Shit…

"Logan?"

"Yeah. I'm here. I was just thinking… Thanks for the heads up, Gary… And take care of yourself."

"I will. And remember to take care of your wife. She nearly chewed my balls off when she thought I was forcing you to work. Don't want her to mutilate some poor schmuck just because of some misunderstanding."

"Yeah. Bye."

* * *

Xavier. Name that has been popping up throughout the centuries, at convenient and not so convenient moments. But never this close. Never in the flesh. Always something inanimate, object we could skirt past if we wanted to. This one I can't avoid. Not if we don't skip the boat and leave this planet.

"Who was it?"

"Gary. Xavier's Pass… It's over. We won't be going back there anymore."

"That's great news! So you won't be working this weekend?"

"No. You got me all to yourself."

"Hmm… What should I do? I have this gorgeous hunk on a man in my bed, what should I do…"

"Do your worse…" It can wait until tomorrow. We can have this one day just to ourselves. I'll break it to her tomorrow.

"Mmm… I'm hungry…"

"I'll go and make us some breakfast." Can't have you starving, darling. There are still few places we haven't tried this morning, and I don't think you managed to wake all our neighbors when you screamed my name. I have a reputation to keep…

"I'm coming with you."

"Sure you are… Later. Lets eat something first before you keel over."

"Logan!" Was that a…

"Did you just threw me with a pillow?"

"Yeah. What are you going to do about it?" I do have that reputation to cover, darling…

"I think I'll just turn you over my knee and…"

"Promises, promises… But we'll have to leave that for later. I really am hungry." Crap.


	25. Cindy

Come on, brat! Put some clothes on, for Christ's sakes!

"So… What's the deal?"

"Deal?" And stop fucking snapping that bubblegum. Next bubble will be the death of you…

"Yeah. That chick told me to look up this skiff, and here I am."

"That chick was my wife. Who failed to inform me that we would be giving a ride to some kid."

"Hey! I'm not a kid!" Yeah. Right. What are you? Fifteen? And put some fucking clothes on!

"Where is she?"

"Who?"

"Your wife. Where did she go?"

"We had to leave in a hurry from Mars, and we forgot something. She went to see if they have it here in sale." You have backpack with you. There has got to be some clothes. Put them on! Even Marie wouldn't get out in that getup!

"You still haven't told me what's the deal."

"Deal? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Come on! There has to be a reason you agreed to give me a ride. What is it? Wife isn't keeping you warm enough?" Jesus Christ! What's the matter with this chick?

"You made your deal with her. Why don't you wait until she returns and ask what she was planning? Now scoot. I have work to do." Move. Now. And stop fucking with that bubblegum.

* * *

"She sure is taking her time…"

"We have been in the space for two weeks already. I'd imagine she's enjoying her freedom." And stop talking.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" Yes. I'm positive.

"I don't do little kids."

"I'm not a kid!"

"Yes, you are. Go. Put some clothes on. Play with your dolls or something. I really have to get this done before we leave."

"I have clothes on!" What ever. Get the fuck out of my face!

* * *

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Giving you a backrub."

"Hands and tits off from my back."

"I'm bored!"

"Do I look like I care?"

"No. But you look like you could use a good fu…"

"Fuck off, squirt. I'm not interested."

"My name is not squirt."

"It will soon be 'the-dead-chick-who-didn't-know-when-to-shut-up'…"

"You're not a nice guy."

"Tell me something I don't already know…" Please. Don't. Just shut your mouth and go put some clothes on. What the hell was Marie thinking when she sent her here?

* * *

"Cindy."

"What?"

"My name. It's Cindy."

Blonde. Is there some kind of freaking law about those as well? Do they all have to be brainless, gum-bubbling creatures named Cindy? Do they all have to be equipped with boobs big enough to suffocate them if they fall on their back? And do they all have to be so goddamned stupid? And make a beeline straight at my crotch as soon as I dare to show my face?

As soon as Marie gets back here I'm going to ask her what the fuck did I do before the lab. It must have been something awful. And this is my penance. To haul a horny teenager across half of the fucking space.

* * *

"So, Cindy… Think you could dig up some decent clothes from that backpack of yours?" Because truth to be told, joke is getting old. I can see her fucking nipples through that blouse she's wearing, and I don't need very active imagination to find out what's hiding under that skirt of hers. All she has to do is to move, and I can tell she's not a real blonde.

"No."

"No?" She has got to be shitting me. There's no way she's planning to hitch a ride in that outfit.

"I didn't have the time to grab any clothes when I left." Runaway?

"What's in there?"

"Some books and my laptop." She had enough time to grab those, but no time or sense to throw in shirts and trousers?

"You have pretty fucked up priorities, kid."

"That's what he used to say all the time… Look. If this... If my clothes are bothering you, maybe your wife could borrow me something more… Decent?" Not maybe. She will. She will, if I have anything to say about it. Actually…

"I'll go and get you something more comfortable to wear, okay?"

* * *

Better. Couldn't find anything from Marie. She's not as… Equipped around chest are as Cindy, and Cindy has all over more flesh on her bones. My shirt's a little too big, goes past her knees, but more of her is covered, the better we get along. Now that I can actually concentrate to talk to her and I don't have to think about not staring at her nipples. And mind out of the gutter now. I'm no pervert, but I'm a man.

Funny. She turned awfully shy as soon as she got some clothes on. She's actually blushing. Cute.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I… Your wife promised that you could take me to the next outpost…"

"Yeah, yeah… But what the hell does a kid like you do out there alone?" Spit it out.

"I haven't been a kid in years. My parents… They didn't want me, so they sold me to this guy…" Fuck.

"I wasn't a hooker. Not like that. He needed me to help around the house. Cleaning, doing dishes, that kind of stuff. But I heard him talking to some of his friends last night. They were going to have a party today. I heard them talking about how I was old enough… And things they wanted to do to me…" Oh, crap…

"Okay, kid. You got yourself a deal. Don't harass me, stay quiet, do as you're told to, and at the next decent outpost we'll look for you a place to stay."

Marie, you better get here soon. Before I ask where that asshole lives.


	26. Cindy 2

"Are we there yet?"

"No. One more time and I stuff you through the airlock."

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"That does it, kid…"

"Eep!"

* * *

When I first saw Cindy, I have to admit I wasn't thinking 'what an adorable child'. Slut was the first word that popped to my mind. Now, after spending over a week with her and Logan in the space… I can't help wondering how young and childlike she still is. I don't think I ever was that playful. Or that young.

* * *

"Fuck… That brat's going to be the death of me…"

"My, my… Are you getting old?"

"Who are you calling old?"

"You. Can't even chase down a little girl…"

"Won't. There's a difference. No use to chase down scared little girls when I already have everything I need right here…"

"Logan! We have company!"

"That company ran down to loading zone. Last time I saw her, she was going through your CD-collection. Showed her how those work. She'll be occupied at least couple of hours…"

"Logan!"

"Fine. Don't come crying to me when you're all wet and horny…"

I have seen Logan this relaxed and at ease with only few people including me before. Come to think of it… Anna, Adele and me are the only ones up until now to see this side of him. Gentle and playful instead of angry and bitter.

* * *

"These are great! Where did you found these?" You wouldn't believe if I told you.

"From a small boutique that sell antique back in Mars. They had a stack of those and a player. They didn't know how to operate that player, so they gave them all to me on discount. Logan's pretty good with electronics, so he figured out how that worked." Not a complete lie. I bought those CD's and the player back on Earth from a guy that was selling stuff he had found scavenging ancient ruins. Ancient. I hate that word. That guy preferred New York among other big cities of the past ancient. What word would he have used to describe Logan and me if he had known we used to live in those places?

It took a while from Logan to figure out how to convert the player work on solar power, and it took even longer, and even more colorful language when he hooked it to the electrical system of this skiff of ours. But it was worth it. Even Logan had to admit that when I put on a collection of old rock from sixties. 1960, that is.

"So, how long have you two been together?" Oh, Cindy… That's even more unbelievable.

"Quite some time. Why?"

"No reason… I was just thinking… Before I met you, I had already tried to hitch a ride from few other pilots. They were… They wanted something in return for a ride. Only one was asking money. But Logan… He made quite clear from the beginning that he wasn't interested in me. Not in that way…"

"Would you have liked if he was interested?"

"No. I had already decided to give you guys what ever you wanted just to get away from there, but I don't think I would have liked that kind of attention very much. Not even from him. Sure, he feels like a nice guy, but there's something… I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound ungrateful or mean bitch, but he's not all okay, isn't he?"

Not all okay? That's putting it mildly. Neither of us is all okay anymore. If we even were okay to start with. But we're getting by. And we both have what matters the most. We have each other to lean on when going gets rough.


End file.
